Hidden Screams
by Star Slightly To The Right
Summary: "Kurosaki-san, right? I know you do not know me, but I was wondering if you could help me with something." AU
1. Chapter 1

**…**

**…**

When she was a child, she'd always wondered where her older brother would run off to. In the castle, it was lonely and there weren't many people to speak with besides the maids and butlers. She always thrived on her sibling's spirit and small, handsome smiles and glowing, dark eyes. If he wasn't there, she wasn't sure what she would do. As her mother and father didn't pay her any mind and she was forced to be proper and beautiful as the princess of Japan. There wasn't much she was able to do, and being only eight, she hadn't seen outside of the palace's walls.

She hated being alone. Honestly, the only thing the small redhead enjoyed was reading the thousands of books in the palace's library and gazing out the massive window in her rosy bedroom, counting the beautiful birds whirling past and finding shapes in the fluffy clouds. She couldn't bother her father, for he was too busy and her mother was usually shouting at her, as though she were deaf or a mouse.

So she didn't enjoy being lonely, roaming through the giant home, wishing to venture over the tall fortress outside. Past the gardens and the colorful fish and through the dew and between the trees until she came to the great wall, hoping to catch even a sound from outside the Kingdom, but she never found anything, only red dragon flies and broken dreams.

"Onii-chan!"

The young man jerked, surprised, and turned, eyes widening when they spotted the smaller girl standing in her white sleeping gown and bare feet, along with her long russet hair falling down her back and shoulders. Her large honey eyes stared at him and her small lips parted, her gaze darting from the ajar, front wooden doors to the white, full moon flooding light into the castle's floors.

"Are you leaving again?" Her small voice made his chest ache.

Slowly, he gave her that vague smile, "Yes. But only for a moment. Wait for me in the morning."

She blinked her large eyes, "You shall be back when the sun breaches the sky?"

He resisted the urge to crumble in front of his younger sister, his _world_, "I will try. And bring the raspberry pastries you love so much."

Instantly, her face lit up in a precious smile and her eyes shimmered, "R-Really? I'm glad."

Nodding, he patted her head gently, "Be safe, Orihime."

"Hai," She nodded, continuing to smile. He turned away once more, creaking the door open wider before she called, "Onii-chan," he looked back towards her, "Ganbatte."

His eyes stung harshly before he nodded again, turning his face away, "Yes. Arigato,"

And she watched as her brother stepped from the doors.

**…**

**…**

"Well," the nurse said as she removed her slender hand from the princess's forehead and turned back towards the Queen, "It seems she has a fever."

"Useless," the Queen remarked, scowling heavily now as she placed her hands on her narrow waist. Returning her attention to her daughter, she spat, "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Taking in a deep breath, she spoke with great difficulty, "I-Is…Onii-chan back yet?"

The mother rolled her eyes in annoyance, "No. He's in a lot of trouble when he returns though. He shouldn't leave the palace so much, he knows that."

"…" Orihime breathed out deeply, her cheeks flaming and unable to breathe under her nose. She couldn't move this way, and her tiny body ached, "…He's not back…"

"No," her mother snapped, "Get some rest. You'll need it." Orihime watched her mother leave the room, leaving Orihime and the curious nurse in the room alone. The door slammed behind her and Orihime clutched tighter at the blankets.

"Ne, Nurse-san?" Orihime whispered to the lady. She noticed she had long hair that was tied back and fair skin that went well with her full, plump lips and hazel eyes. The woman glanced down at the bedridden princess.

"Hai?" She answered pleasantly, eyes glowing with kindness.

Orihime merely blinked slowly in reply, "What is your name?"

"Masaki. Kurosaki Masaki."

**…**

**…**

When she woke again, it was dark outside. The Kingdom was quiet and the moon stood her home, large and blinding, much like the sun. Orihime, without thinking, threw the blankets off her stiff, tiny form.

She had heard something, and she wasn't sure what it was, but it was _something_. A low thud, maybe something fell, or perhaps she was just imagining things. But it had definitely come from Onii-chan's room. So she stood on the nice, hardwood floor and padded across, pushing open her grand, dark door, only to see the empty, black hallway. She wasn't afraid; there were guards everywhere. Tiptoeing carefully, she was able to press her small hand against the wall, searching for her brother's door.

_There_.

She stepped inside, the lump under the blankets, and then paused.

_Squish._

Her bare foot hit something wet and sticky. She gasped and shakily looked down, eyes finding the dark crimson liquid. Her nose curled in disgust, unable to comprehend what exactly it was. Her toes curled and she keenly listened to the revolting, squelching noise. Slowly, her eyes found the dark, _dark_ sky and the howling winds.

And then her gaze snapped to her brother's bed, the body form under the blankets, and she whispered, "Onii-ch—"

His _head_.

Detached from the body, but eyes closed and peaceful, as if he'd accepted his fate.

Orihime's lips parted and _shook_.

"O-Onii…Onii…"

"Ojou-sama," a maid called softly, and her eyes fell upon the slaughtered son, the young girl standing in his spreading blood. She gasped sharply, and grabbed a hold of the Princess's shoulders, "P-Please, look away—"

Orihime's tiny hands lifted to her face, and her eyes widened with horror as her nails bit into her cheeks.

_"No!"_

The maid's mouth fell open.

_"Onii-chan!"_

Her wails cut through the frosted air, and the maid swore she saw a smile playing around Sora-sama's lips.

**…**

**…**

Darkness.

That's how it was for a while. It was strange. In Orihime's world, it was always sunshine and beauty and magical blue men that would take you on a journey with sweets and laughs. But this was not.

Her dreams all consisted of a dark, dreary place, no life, no happiness, no sun or clouds, just a gloomy sky with a bland moon that loomed over the sandy grounds. She disliked dreaming of this place, for she would just walk and walk and never find a destination.

It _hurt_.

Her eyes were wide open now. Wide open to the world and its cruelty. Her sanity was on the breaking point by time she reached twelve and her heart was breaking in two from the reality-check. Onii-chan wasn't there to make it all better, and the life didn't return to her eyes for a very long time.

Most of the time, she sat in her room, alone, staring at the sky, eyes blank of any emotion. She would twirl the sapphire, hibiscus jewels in her small fingers, spinning them round and round. She remembered when she first achieved these, a day after her brother's death.

_"Here," her mother had thrown them to her feet, "Take them. They were for you." _

They were expensive, she was sure. Made out of a pure gem and she could only wonder where her brother had attained them. Mother had called him a fool for dying this way, and her father ignored it, as always. The Kingdom didn't make an uproar, in fact, she was sure no one knew of her brother's demise.

So what was she supposed to learn now? What was the lesson? How would she be stronger from this?

Every time she came up with these questions, she figured out an answer.

_Nothing. _

**…**

**…**

"Princess,"

Orihime turned her head, the long, amber locks flying around her.

"E-Eh? Tatsuki-san…"

Truth be told, there stood the maid, lean, strong body under frilly clothing. Her dark eyes were wary, and she appeared uncomfortable in the green, beautiful garden. Orihime was standing there, in her best pink dress that brushed against the grass. Her short sleeves were puffed and exposed her slim shoulders. White gloves went up to her upper arms and covered her small hands. Of course, as any other dress, it was tight against her curves.

Orihime had grown even more beautiful as she grew. Now at nineteen, she was easily the most gorgeous woman Tatsuki had ever seen. Her hair went past her waist, a fine, golden-russet that flowed down her back, and thick and smooth to the touch. Her assets were of a woman's, full and curvy, but she would also be rendered delicate with her small, soft hands and feet. Her skin was like velvet; ivory with a hint of rose in her plush lips and cheeks. Wide amber eyes – thick lashes surrounding – ate up her pretty, pretty face.

She was too beautiful for her own good, and sometimes, maids and butlers had trouble staring at her too long. But between her bountiful breasts were the same clips that would remain until the day she died, perhaps longer.

"The Queen would like to speak with you."

**…**

**…**

"Do you understand?"

"…"

"Do you, Orihime?"

"…no."

"Pardon?"

_"No!" _

Startled, the Queen of Japan stared hard at her daughter. The young woman's hands were shaking by her sides and her delicate shoulders hunched inwards. Bright honey eyes met the cold stare of her mother's.

"I-I can't marry him."

"You will."

"No! I will not, Mother. I do not know this man."

"He is the Prince of Spain. It will put peace between our countries and aid our Kingdom. Don't be so selfish. Think of others, will you."

"No…You cannot—"

_Slap!_

Orihime's head whipped to the side and her wide eyes stung harshly almost instantly. Her mother stood in front of her, her chest heaving, gaze narrowed dangerously.

"I am sick and tired of your insolence. You will no longer do what you please in my palace. As my daughter, you will marry Prince Ulquiorra-sama, and you will give him _everything_."

_Silence_.

"Do you understand, Orihime?"

"…H-Hai…"

Instantly, the gentle, doting mother was back, smoothing down her daughter's red, fine hair, "There, there. Do not cry. You will make an excellent bride," she tilted the young woman's chin up, and smirked, "I'll make sure of it."

Turning away, the Queen brushed down her dark crimson skirts, "You will meet him tomorrow morning, and have breakfast. Later, tomorrow night, we will finally show you to the Kingdom. It's time to see what you have grown into, alright?"

"…Hai."

"Good girl. Make your preparations. Arisawa!"

"Yes, Mistress?"

"Please resume taking my daughter to her room. Make sure she bathes thoroughly and sleeps early. Tomorrow is a big day, after all."

**…**

**…**

"You mustn't disobey her, Orihime." Tatsuki whispered to her royal friend. They had always been friends. Even though Orihime wasn't allowed to speak with the maid in public, they continued to converse on their own times. "You will not win."

"Tatsuki-san," the redhead whispered. She was in the expensive tub, steam rising around the two as Tatsuki continued to scrub Orihime's body clean. As she raised the bucket of water over her Princess's head, she paused when her name was called.

"Yes?"

"I'm leaving," the princess replied softly.

The bucket fell to the floor.

Slowly, Orihime turned to face the pale maid, "I need your help, please."

She started to shake her head, "M-Miss…please, you can't ask that of me—"

"As a friend," Orihime murmured, "I'm not asking, I am begging you. I will not marry a stranger, and there are still things I must do in this Kingdom."

"Orihime," the black-haired shook her head once more, "You're speaking nonsense. There is nothing here—"

"I made a promise to someone," she clutched at the charms around her neck, "and I plan to keep it."

**…**

**…**

Perhaps the kimono was a bad idea. After all, it stood out. The color of fresh roses and a green bow around the waist. She wasn't able to move very fast in it and the material cinched around her thighs, hips, and breasts, drawing out attention from the opposite and same sex.

But to Orihime, she wasn't paying attention to any of this, any of the looks and stares and grins. In front of her was the Kingdom. She had never been outside of the Palace's walls, and never seen so many faces at once. Stands were decorated in every color and obviously took hard work to build. She could see animals and children laughing with their mothers, babies carried on backs, and men hurrying to work.

It was all so magnificent.

Hurrying forward, she came across a large stand where a man yelled and hollered, giving away fruits and vegetables to anyone who had enough money to buy. Orihime, of course, had left everything behind, even her clothing and money. Nothing was of importance of her. Everyone was so lively, skin was shone by children and giggles ran through the air as they followed their mothers, begging for more food than normal. Orihime had a hard time masking her smile.

_Bop._

Glancing down with her wide eyes, she found that a green apple had hit her sandal softly. Slowly, she reached down and looked up to see a small, young boy standing across from her, his dark eyes glinting in his tanned face. Orihime smiled, and he was startled for a few seconds as she held it out, offering it to him, and he brought out his palm, only for her to drop it in the tiny hand. She walked past him the next moment, her dainty hand ruffling his hair gently as she went.

Orihime's heart fluttered in her chest. She had met someone new, but that wasn't all. Some people glanced at her twice, some in disdain and others in astonishment. She was at knowledge they didn't know who she was, especially due to the circumstances. The day went by fast, mostly of her 'ooing' and 'aaahing', but she couldn't blame herself. No wonder Onii-chan would leave the palace all the time. It was magnificent.

But her fantastic day ended all too soon.

Standing beside a stand, she heard a couple of hard steps.

_"Did you hear? The Princess went missing last night. The guards are out and about. Be careful what you say…" _

Orihime's eyes widened. She should've known someone would come looking for her. Quickly, she scurried around a building, lifted up the hanging door, and hurried her way inside. Stumbling backwards, she bumped into a hard chest. A pair of hands grabbed her upper arms roughly.

"Huh? Are you a waitress?"

Orihime gasped at the touch, growing frigid as she hurried to pull herself from his grip. She whirled around to face him, and saw his face. It was an unkind face and not very handsome with full-fish lips and a hard, bugging stare, dark hair falling into his red, angered face. Orihime took a couple steps back, only for him to tangle his big hand in her long hair, tugging on a few strands.

"Oh," he mused with a gleeful smile, dragging his eyes over her face. Orihime's heart tripled in speed, "Look at this boys. Ya know, normally women don't wear their hair so freely. Would make a pretty penny, don'cha think?"

At a table towards the back, three men stood, one placing a hand on their sword, and leered, "Forget the hair. _Look at her_."

Orihime took in a quick breath and yanked away from the man's grip, probably pulling out a few strands. She turned, prepared to run, only to run into another chest. This man was taller than the others, but his grin was just as wide as he placed a hand on her shoulders. The other guy behind her grasped her delicate wrist and took in a deep inhale.

Adrenaline kicked into her being and her eyes widened as her heart thundered. How had a day turn so wrong? To Orihime – being in the palace all her life – she had never experience something like this, never been manhandled like this.

_What was…?_

"How about you get a bit more comfortable?" The larger one asked, grinning fiercly now.

Orihime's lips shook.

"Don'cha get it?" The other crowed, tightening his hand around her frail wrist, "We're yakuza. If you wanna live, I'd say you do as we order."

Something akin to frustration pooled in her stomach, tightening her muscles as she yanked her wrist away from his disgusting touch. "I will not."

"HUH?" He drawled.

"What was that?" Another asked, and Orihime heard the distinct sound of metal slicing through the air.

Taking a few steps back, she found herself cornered between three men, one with a sword, the other two leering ferociously as the tip of the blade was placed at her throat. Orihime swallowed, and sweat beaded onto her body as they leaned forward fully prepared to take what they wanted. The cooks and waitresses in the back were unable to move, frozen in fear of the gang.

_Heart…stop going so fast…_

Just then, another round of footsteps came through the door. A brush of fabric and Orihime's eyes widened.

_…Orange?_

Yes. She was not imagining things again. His hair was, indeed, orange. She wasn't sure how he achieved to get it that way, but she was very much intrigued with the color, even though she wasn't in the predicament to think at that very moment. The next thing she noticed about him was the sense of power around his tall form. He was much taller than her, and most of the men, and he oozed a sense of raw masculinity and force. He didn't seem like the one that would ask questions and then proceed to fight.

Slowly, he snapped his gaze, and suddenly, his eyes were on hers. She gasped sharply, and her heart went even faster than before. His gaze was of the dirt, fresh and fertilized, the kind her grandmother used to use to plant beautiful flowers, or the rare sweets that her father used to keep in his study, _chocolate_, she thought they were called. But these eyes were not sweet in any way. They were hard, and piercing hers viciously, and her chest _hurt, _and she was afraid she had stared too long. His amber-colored eyes were too vivid, and they were almost frightening in their intensity. Thick lashes made his eyelids heavy, as if he were sleep, and a scowl was firmly etched onto his face, menacing and hard. He was also intensely handsome, a handsome face under thick, peculiar hair.

Then, as if they hadn't shared that exchange, he rose his large hand, and said, "Yo."

The men all paused from leering at the shivering princess and turned slowly to see the orange-haired make his way to the side of the small hut. He sat down, and Orihime saw him place down his sword, long and sleek and black, like the night. As soon as he sat, another from the back of the table stood, and grinned.

"If it isn't Kurosaki…" He growled, "What brings you here?"

Kurosaki – she was guessing that was his name – didn't even bat an eyelash. Lazily, he lolled his head around to face the man that had drawn his sword.

"…That girl," he murmured a second later. His voice was deep and low, something Orihime had never heard before. He turned his head back to glance at the girl, "Does she work here?"

The man sputtered, "How should I know?"

"Because if she does," Kurosaki continued, "I would like to order."

"Sorry," the tall one over her spoke this time, she she'd failed to notice that his hand had moved to his sword, and his thumb poked it from the sheath, "This one is all ours."

Kurosaki crooked a brow, "Is that so?"

Growling furiously, the big one over her yanked out his sword, and she ducked in time before he could take off her head.

And it all went into chaos.

There was a scream, and she was unsure if it was hers. Her amber hair fell down to her waist again and she watched as the group lunged for the orange-haired. Orihime's eyes grew as he sat there, eyes closed, before a wide, almost frightening grin broke his face.

"Tch," he murmured the next second as the first got close enough. If she'd blinked, she would've missed it.

There was a drop of blood, more than she would've liked, and it spread before the man fell, a gushing gash in his stomach. Kurosaki slowly stood as the others froze, his black blade now dripping with crimson. He stood with a careless grace that made her afraid to run, or even speak. He was confident in his movements, and, for some odd reason, Orihime was in awe of this.

His grin widened, stretching his face, and the violence danced in his eyes behind orange, thick locks, "C'mon," he said to the men, "I don't have all day."

Orihime's eyes grew larger as they roared and rushed forward, blood sweeping against the walls, splattering onto the floors, and crushing the room in its thick, red liquid. Orihime's heart wouldn't stop beating so fast, she couldn't comprehend where exactly it was, either in her throat or stomach, she wasn't sure. Finally, it was over and she watched with shock as the last man hit the floor. She wasn't very frightened, she'd seen worst, and they were groaning on the floor.

Her knees shook when she saw the orange-haired man in black was the last warrior standing. Slowly, he swung out his blade to remove the blood from his sword and then slid it behind his back. When his eyes met hers once again, she stumbled a few steps back, as another grin swept across his handsome face.

Locks of orange fell across his forehead as he placed a foot on the gaping wound in one's stomach. The man hollered in agony and flailed as Kurosaki continued to grin, "Don't forget to tip your waitress."

He removed his foot and leaned down to grab up the dumpling stick from one of their plates. Orihime froze as he walked towards her and then their shoulders brushed before he was gone, the door slipping behind him.

Pink lips trembling, she whispered, "Onii-chan…is he the one?"

**…**

**…**

**Yay~! New story. Anyway, I didn't really think this through until I imagined Orihime as some kind of princess. Yes, she is a princess, but I never really thought of her as one, ya know? In this story, I don't think Orihime is going to be so naïve, nor ditzy as some might put it. I want my character in this story to be kind-hearted, but witty and beautiful, but damaged. She isn't the normal 'Orihime' or canon. **

**Anyway, please review. I'd like to know what you think of Ichigo. I've never written him this way before, and he frightens me a bit, even though my heart is racing. **

**-Star**


	2. Chapter 2

**…**

**…**

She was in a daze.

Truly, she was. People were going into a frantic by now, screaming and shouting in hectic circles. Some woman were grabbing up their babies when they heard the shrieks from inside the shop, and others were already drawing their swords, prepared to fight for their lives. Orihime lifted the cloth of the door to see the havoc, and she was almost afraid to step into it, and possibly get carried away. Carefully, she stepped from the ledge of the shop and glanced around wildly for the man.

Her eyes shot around desperately, searching and _searching_.

_Orange…Orange…Orange…_

Her fists clenched against her sides, "Where…?"

_There._

He was walking casually through the chaos, as everyone sped past him. There were a few shrieks from the crowd as she heard the horses and shouts of orders. Gasping, she watched as the guards surrounded him. Kurosaki didn't move, and didn't pull out his sword. Orihime quickly walked forward, trying to keep her eyes on the man.

"Kurosaki," the head captain called, "You're back in the area?"

Briefly, the orange-haired look towards the man, "Shūhei Hisagi," he greeted casually, as the guards readied their weapons, prepared for the murderer to attack, "Must you be such a nuisance? This is the second time you've tried to capture me."

Hisagi's eyes narrowed, "This is different. As you can see, you're surrounded."

Lazily, the orange-haired glanced around, as though realizing this, "I think you're right," he grinned widely, smugly. Quick as lightening, he pulled out his sword, and aimed, only for the Captain to draw out his own blade, clashing it viciously with Kurosaki's. The rest of the men drew as well, prepared to slice the young gent open.

Before she could stop herself, she was already yelling, "No!"

A rough jolt shoved her back, and she lost her footing, falling to the ground. Her kimono rose a bit to show her bare calves. The one soldier – that had propelled her back – glared at her, "Stay back, woman. This is none of your concern."

Luckily, he was too focused on Kurosaki to care for her looks or identity, but his eyes did linger on her legs a little too long. She repositioned herself, clenching her fists as they charged towards the man, and the war began.

Throwing her arms over her head, Orihime squeezed her eyes shut as the first spray of blood splattered against the ground. For some reason, she only hoped it wasn't the Kurosaki. There was another scream from deep inside the village, and the clash of swords rattled through the air. When she hesitantly pried her eyes open, she shrieked when a heavy body fell beside her.

Well, only a _half_ of body. The soldier's being was cut in half, his legs missing, and blood gushing from the bottom. His intestines seemed to fall like rain from his severed body, and the puddle of crimson formed around him, as he flailed, slowed, and then died in front of Orihime's eyes. Her shout of fear seemed to gain some kind of attention, and Kurosaki's head turned briefly to see the young woman, large, hazel eyes staring up at him.

She was a distraction, it seemed, because the next second, they all pounced on the killer. Kurosaki grunted as he was shoved against the hard ground and his arms were yanked around to be chained together. He struggled against the bounds, and somehow, his eyes were able to find hers again.

"N-No…" She choked out, but it was a failed attempt.

Something went through her chest, and spread like wildfire through his body as she watched him be pulled up by the guards.

_Onii-chan, what should I do?_

**…**

**…**

Carefully, she tiptoed to the edge of the bricked gates, and made sure not to stumble. She was naturally clumsy when it came to these types of predicament. Peeking around the corner, she saw the one guard standing in front of the gates. There was no way she could get into the place without getting past him. When he glanced her way, she quickly maneuvered back into the shadows.

As she took a deep breath, she decided it was now or never. Slowly, she made her way to the entrance. The man looked up curiously and gasped in surprise when he saw the young, beautiful woman heading towards him. When she stopped in front of him, she gave a nervous, pretty smile.

Ignoring the flush in his sunken cheeks, the guard waved his sword threateningly at her, "Don't come near here, woman. This is private land."

Orihime bowed politely, "Sumimasen. I'm looking for someone."

He blinked in surprise, "Eh? No one's here besides the S.S. group and that damned Kurosaki," he spat his name like a curse.

Orihime rose, "Kurosaki is here?" She questioned, and she leaned around, as if searching for him. The guard stood in her line of view, "Do you know where I can find him exactly?"

His face hardened, "Kurosaki is a low-life. He's killed many people in this village, yakuza, people in his debt, soldiers, you name it. He's not someone you wish to associate with. Besides, he's being hung tomorrow for his sins."

Something in Orihime's gut twisted powerfully. Clenching her fists, she felt the familiar determination and anxiety pulse through her. "Sumimasen," she murmured and stepped around him, "but I cannot allow that to happen." The man watched in astonishment as she started past him. Growling in agitation, he gripped her slim, covered arm. Quickly, she reacted.

Of course, Tatsuki-san wouldn't allow her to leave without some kind of street-smarts.

She whirled around, her fine hair flying around her, and brought her leg forward, jabbing it directly in between his legs. He gasped and his face scrunched up in agony. Orihime felt his grip loosen and he slowly fell to his knees, and then onto his face, squeaking in pain and humiliation. Orihime bent down and searched his trousers, ignoring his whines of protests and disgusting curses. When she came across something in his pocket, she smiled.

"Ah!" She pulled out the small, dark key.

"You little bitch!" He crowed, continuing to cradle his privates with one hand, but trying to snag her ankle with the other. Orihime stepped back in time for him to miss. Standing, the princess took that chance to hurry away, her sandals making soft noises against the grounds.

As far as she could see, no one was near. The night made it very hard to see, and there were only a few huts. Stooping down, she tied the front of her dress into the obi around her waist, revealing her slender legs. This way, she could be faster. The first hut was bright and she was sure there were soldiers there. Just to make sure, she looked around the corner of the entrance, only to find three guards around the fire, chuckling and chatting about nonsense.

"…are you sure it's alright to just let Kenta watch the entrance? You know how gullible he is." One stated lazily.

"Ch," another scowled, grabbing up his spear, "I'll go check it out."

Orihime gasped sharply and quickly moved back as he walked towards her. Pressing her back firmly against the wall, she watched as the man yawned and then continued on his way, obviously unaware of her presence. Carefully, she turned towards the last hut. She doubted he was in the second one. As she sprinted across the dark grounds, she could hear the shouts of the man, and she was sure he'd already attracted attention.

She needed to hurry.

When she finally made it to the last, tiny hut, she realized it was rather quiet and dark. She didn't have time to hesitate. As she glanced it over, she found that there was no door, therefore, she skimmed her hands around until she found wooden bars, strong and durable.

"Oi,"

She gasped in shock. Her eyes widened and their gazes met immediately. Narrowed, long lashes electrifying his chocolate gaze, and his eyebrows were scrunched together. He was scowling at her, and he didn't seem very happy. She became nervous almost automatically under his hard eyes, and her stomach flipped over. Her heart sped up and she dropped her hands beside her, licking her dry lips. Her eyes roamed across his body; he was still tied by the wrists, but his shirt was removed and his hair was soaked with sweat, along with his body. His muscles rippled powerfully under smooth, sun-bronzed skin. His back was strong, yet lean, and flexed with his undeniable power. He was tired, she could see this, and there were smudges of dirt on his form and face, and she saw a couple of bruises dotting random parts of his arms and chest.

They had hurt him, and why did that make her chest _split_?

Suddenly, a feral grin lit up his handsome face, "Ah. If it isn't kitten."

Orihime's eyes grew and her heart skipped a beat. His voice was deep, sensual, a low husky tone that made her stomach flip once again. When she gathered her bearings, she frowned curiously, comprehending what he'd exactly said.

"A-Ano…" She swallowed, "are you talking to me?"

His smile fell and his scowl reappeared, "There's no one else here, yeah?"

She bent down to him. He was lying on his stomach, tied up, and drenched in sweat, but somehow had enough willpower to glare at her, "M-My name isn't kitten. U-Um, it's—"

"Does it look like a give a fuck?" He nearly growled at her, struggling in the bonds before giving up with an exasperated huff. "How'd you get in here anyway? I didn't think I would be allowed visitors."

"I-I'm not a visitor!" She chirped nervously and balled her hands into her soft pink kimono, "I'm…um…how do I explain it…?"

He watched her fidget and lower her hazel eyes to the ground. When she looked back towards him, her eyes were smiling at him, "Kurosaki-san, right?" She didn't wait for his confirmation, "I know you do not know me, but I was wondering if you could help me with something."

His eyebrows came together once again, "And with what exactly, kitten?" His eyes roved over her, and lingered on her exposed legs. Quickly, she loosened the tie and the kimono fell back in its rightful place. Too bad it hugged her body anyway. He grinned wryly and gazed back at her face.

She flushed and swallowed again. Her mouth felt abnormally dry. Pulling the key out, his eyes widened a bit as it glowed in the dull moonlight, "How about I let you out first and then we can talk?"

As she fell to her knees and placed the key in the lock of the cage, he chuckled. A shiver convulsed up her spine. His laugh was filled with mockery and smooth, but somehow had a hard edge.

"Eto—"

"Are you fucking serious?" He asked, and she jerked back when his eyes locked with hers. Truly, they were too intense for her. They rung with anger, violence that she hoped wasn't for her, but something about them said he'd been through a lot, blood and tears and hate. Her stomach twisted, and she thought she would choke from the unfamiliar emotions.

Hardening her features, she replied, "I am very serious, Kurosaki-san."

He continued to watch her eerily, penetratingly, "So you know who I am," it was rather a statement than a question. She nodded a bit, "Then why the hell are you asking me for favors?"

She blinked. "W-What do you mean?"

"I've killed people, stupid."

"…And?"

"…"

"…"

"…Are…Are you an idiot?" He deadpanned.

Leaving the key in the lock, she raised her hands to wave them in front of her, embarrassment coloring her face, "N-No! It's just I've stepped on insects before, and my family has cut down a tree once. I've killed things too."

There was another speck of silence before he snarled out, "Go away."

"E-Eh?"

"I don't want to help you. I'll be out of here soon enough." He spat harshly and lolled his head around to keep his gaze off of her.

"Kurosaki-san," she murmured, "they're executing you tomorrow."

It was quiet.

"…Why am I not surprised?"

"Eh? You're not? I would be very frightened." Lowering her hands to her lap, she nervously wrung her palms, "I-I don't want you to die…even if I do not know you that well." Sighing once more, he winced a bit when he tried to crawl towards her. Falling heavily back on the ground, he groaned, "K-Kurosaki-san! Are you alright?"

"No, stupid," he grunted out. "They've been beating me all day."

"HEY! I think I hear voices!"

Orihime's eyes widened, "Oh, no! They've must've figured out," she grabbed onto the key, and desperately turned. It was jammed, just her luck.

"Look, kitten," he ordered sternly and she instantly gazed up at him, "Get out of here."

"B-But you're—"

"I said go, idiot!"

Without thinking, she jerked up, "H-Hai!" And hurried away just in time for the guards to come around the corner.

"After her!" Hisagi crowed, jabbing a finger towards the fan of auburn hair vanishing in the dark. The soldiers cheered their consent before taking off after the girl. Hisagi turned his attention to the captive Kurosaki, his chocolate brown eyes diverted to the left, following the young woman until she disappeared. Leaning down, Hisagi pried the key from the lock, Ichigo scowling at the man.

The Captain only replied with a solemn look.

**…**

**…**

Orihime pried her eyes open. Her entire body was drawn towards the earth, practically reeking with exhaustion. She whimpered softly as she sat up with her heavy form. Her arms felt like led and her legs like iron. Something had woken her, but it wasn't the rising sun. She had fallen asleep on the ground, her head resting on a stack of hay.

"…eh? What is this…"

"…some kind of announcement…"

"…Kurosaki…"

"…must be serious…"

"…today…"

Carefully, Orihime turned her head to rest her weary eyes on the group of villagers. They all were crowded around a flyer, and she stood, wobbling a bit on her feet, to see exactly what it said.

_Kurosaki Ichigo._

_Hanging when the sun breaches the sky_

And she was off.

**…**

**…**

_I won't let them…_

_I won't let them…_

_I won't let them!_

There were already a crowd of people at the entrance, demanding to get in while others were allowed to slip past with the guards' consent. Clenching her jaw, she searched for an opening. Finding none, she decided the best way to do this, was her way. Taking a few steps back, she ran forward, and ducked in time to slide between an unsuspecting guard's legs. She skidded to a stop on her bottom, and landed gracelessly in the dirt. As she stood, she saw the two soldiers and townspeople staring at her in astonishment.

That was when the first one lunged, pulling out a small dagger. Her eyes widened, but not before her instincts kicked in and she slammed her closed fist into his wrist. The knife was thrown from his hand and landed a few feet away. Orihime ducked in time to dodge his punch, and accidently brought her head up too quick to catch his chin with her head. He howled in pain as Orihime cradled her thumping head.

She began to flail in panic when he fell to the ground and lost consciousness, "A-Ah! Sir! Are you alright?"

"Sugoi…" The townspeople said in unison as the second guards watched in shock. Gathering her bearings, she saw the sun spill over the hilltop, and light up the castle just overhead. As she stooped down and grabbed up the small knife, she squeaked one more apology before heading in the other direction.

"Sumimasen!" She cried again as she scurried around the corner. The deck and the rope came into view, along with the few guards and bystanders. Orihime jerked to a stop as they brought a struggling Kurosaki onto the stage, his neck just right for the thick rope. Orihime's eyes bugged, and she felt her gaze sting a second later.

Even though he was a killer, and even though he was rude, she still _needed_ him. She pushed past people, growing more desperate as the Captain placed the noose tightly around his throat. Kurosaki didn't even blink, much less move away. Just as the Hangman shoved Kurosaki's back, Orihime screamed,

"Kurosaki-san! Duck, please!"

Instantly, he jerked out of the way just in time for the knife to split through the rope. Orihime's eyes widened before she smiled widely.

"I-I did it!"

The orange-haired had his own feral, mocking grin, "Sure did, kitten."

Her smile fell, "T-That's not my na—"

"You little bitch!" A spear landed right next to her right sandal and she jolted, frightened, as the group of soldiers headed straight towards her. The townspeople shrieked and shouted in fear, scampering around wildly, creating chaos.

Kurosaki took that chance to head-butt Captain Hisagi, who instantly fell, his nose jerking from the correct socket. The Hangman slashed his sword angrily, and Ichigo bolted into the air – Orihime watched in amazement – his foot landing right in the man's jaw. She heard a bone pop out of place as the man fell with a groan. Kurosaki landed with sheer grace, like a flexing, big cat, dangerous and wild.

Pushing past the running people, Orihime found the dagger on the ground. Hisagi chose that chance to sit up, cupping one hand on his nose, "Catch the prisoner! Catch Kurosaki, dammit!"

The orange-haired grinned as the soldier's withdrew their swords, roaring out their battle-cries.

"Oi," Orihime whipped her head around to face Kurosaki-san. He had his naked back to her, and his hands were tied together. "Let me go, would you, kitten?"

Orihime didn't bother correcting him. Instead, she gazed into his eyes, his dangerous smirk, and his strong body. With one slash or one hit, he could easily kill her. She wasn't sure about anything anymore, she didn't care about a lot of things since Onii-chan died. The only way she was going to get anything out of life was taking a few risks. She bit into her bottom lip.

She was done being _proper_, being _polite_, being a _Princess_.

And with that, she sliced right through his bonds.

His smile widened until she thought it would crack his face in two halves. So full of malice and evil, yet intense and smooth at the same time. She nervously licked her lips, but kept a firm hold on the knife.

_Better safe than sorry. _

With agile indolence, Kurosaki leaned down and yanked the black sword from Hisagi's belt. Orihime's eyes widened again on her pretty face. That was the sleek black sword Kurosaki had had when he was in the shop, slaying all those men. It was even more stunning up close.

Whirling around to face the rushing, violent soldiers, Ichigo smirked once more, "Let's do this."

** … **

**…**

He fell.

She gasped, jerking around, "Kurosaki-san!"

"Dammit," he growled, thrusting his sword into the dirt to keep himself upright. He had multiple scratches all over his body, dirt, and blood. Some from other people, and his lip was cut. Blood stained his cheekbone, and he panted, shirtless, sweaty, and _bloody_. Timidly, Orihime walked towards him. He didn't appear to have any broken bones, but she was sure he'd bruised him ribs fighting with one of the guards.

"Are y-you alright?"

He cracked a wry grin, "Does it look like I'm okay, kitten?"

She blinked, "Not very much."

He stood up, and she jerked in surprise as his dark eyes met her large ones. He held her gaze for a few seconds before lazily place the black, sleek sword on his shoulder, "Why the hell did you do that?"

_His mood swings are terrible. _

Orihime bit her bottom lip and fidgeted, "U-Um…well, you see…"

"You don't look very dumb, but you act like it," he stated, "Why would you save someone like me?"

"I-I told you," she muttered, "I need your help."

He crooked his orange brows, standing straight now. Orihime darted her eyes to the village. It was very, very far away now, so far, she couldn't see anything but the castle she used to live in, breathe in, do everything in. The guards were probably still after them, and she was surprised Kurosaki-san could run this far with her, due to his injuries, but he gave no complaints.

"Hey," he grunted, and she blinked back into the outer world, "Don't act ditzy now. Tell me."

"Eeh? So that means you'll actually do it for me?" She clenched her hands together nervously.

"Tch," he turned his face away, "You saved my damned life. I might be fucking ruthless, but I owe you something. I stick to things, ya know. And besides," he glanced at her, his mouth going down in the corners, "I don't like to kill women."

Orihime's heart picked up in speed, "Oh."

"Yeah," he said, "Tell me."

"Well," she began apprehensively, "I need help finding someone."

His eyebrows crooked once more, "Finding someone? Look, lady, I'm not a detective."

Her hands waved in front of her swiftly, "N-No! Not exactly just finding him. I need you to help me locate him, and I'll do the rest."

He frowned. "You're going to kill him?"

A frown also went across her pretty face, "Kurosaki-san, killing is not all you can do for revenge."

"So this is about revenge?"

Placing her hand on the sapphire flowers, hidden in her kimono, she nodded, "Yes."

"And how do we identify this guy?"

She put a finger underneath her chin, as if to think, "…I don't know."

His glare hardened, "What the hell do you mean?"

Smiling brightly, she shook her head, "I'll know when I see him, Kurosaki-san."

He stared at her for a few seconds, scowling, "…You really are an idiot, aren't you?"

Her eyes snapped open. "E-Eh?" Pouting unhappily, she shook her head again, "I am actually very smart, Kurosaki-san. I can read and write very well, and my friends usually say I have very good eating habits."

Ichigo's scowl deepened, "What kind of friends do you have?"

"All kinds!" She exclaimed excitedly, "Like my bear—"

"—bear?"

"—and my leprechaun and my lucky rabbit, but I didn't want to chop off his foot because that would be mean, and Tatsuki-chan, and the little blue men that follow me around all the time, and I tell them not to, but—E-Eh? Kurosaki-san! Where are you going?"

She followed after him.

"Fuck this shit," he grunted, "You talk too damn much."

"B-But we had deal,"

"See ya, kitten." He ran, quick and agile, far away from her. Orihime gasped in surprise and then took off after him.

"That's not my name, Kurosaki-san!"

"Dammit, quit following me!"

"My name is Orihime. Please refrain from calling me kitten—" Orihime jerked to a stop when his sword was suddenly at her throat. Her lips trembled as her heart plummeted down to her stomach. Hard brown eyes locked with her large, honey eyes.

"I said I didn't like to kill women, not that I _wouldn't_, kitten," he nearly growled at her, his voice deep, low, and smooth. "Don't mistake me. I'll help you with this, but as soon as this shit is over, I'm gone, got it?"

To his surprise, she smiled softly, "Hai, Kurosaki-san."

Slowly, he withdrew his sword, "Great. I'm glad we have an understanding." Glancing towards the setting sun, he scowled again, "Which way is he?"

She blinked at the question before replying, "I have no idea."

"…"

"…"

"…What?"

**…**

**…**

**I hope you liked it. Kurosaki is very mean, isn't he? Orihime isn't the canon, still bright and happy, but much more cunning. I would've loved her to have this kind of personality in the manga/anime. **

**Please review. It'll make my day.**

**-Star**


	3. Chapter 3

**…**

_Screams. _

_"Help, Onii-chan, help!" _

_"Ichi-nii!" _

_A small, cruel smirk._

_"Off with their heads," _

_The screams _stopped_._

**…**

**…**

Orihime licked her lips nervously, fidgeting with her pink kimono. Her feet _hurt_. She glanced up and then back down, afraid he would say something, but luckily, he was in front and his back was to her. It seemed Kurosaki-san had strong feet, because he did not complain or say anything. Of course, the Princess didn't either, or at least she tried not to, yet she was sure he'd begun to realize.

She and Kurosaki-san had been walking for about a day now. She was hungry, aching, and tired. Kurosaki-san did not say anything to her, even when she tried to start conversation with him as they escaped the Kingdom's land. Unfortunately, Orihime had no knowledge of villages outside of her own, and she had no idea where they were headed. She was also vaguely frightened – not too much, but _still_ – because Kurosaki-san was much stronger than her, could kill her in an instant, and also leave her without a second thought. The thought of him leaving was _much_ scarier, though.

She had been so wrapped in her thoughts, she hadn't realized the orange-haired had stopped. Orihime squeaked and flailed when she knocked into his back, stumbling backward from the force of it. His back was like a solid wall of muscle. She gasped when she righted herself and shook her hands until they blurred in front of her.

"S-Sorry! I didn't see you stop and if I did, I would've too, Kurosaki-san! Are you alright? Did I hurt you? Probably not since you're so tall and strong and I'm really little and—"

"Are you thirsty?"

She blinked and looked up. He was staring at her over his shoulder, amber eyes intensely locking gazes with her. She felt that _warm_ sensation in her belly. "A-Ano…Yes, I suppose I am."

He nudged his head to the side and she followed the gesture. Her eyes widened significantly when she saw the small stream of water, just a dip in the ground, but obviously clean enough to drink. She gasped again and then looked towards him with a big, hopeful smile.

"C-Can I…?" She asked, bouncing in spot.

Ichigo gave a small smirk and affirmative nod, "Go ahead, kitten."

With a whirl of her amber hair, she rushed to the small stream, stumbling on the way down. When she reached it, she cupped both hands together and dipped it into the lukewarm water. Coming back up, she stared at her reflection in the clear water before she brought it to her mouth and sipped gratefully.

Ichigo narrowed his eyes, watched her, and then glanced away.

"Kurosaki-san?"

His gaze snapped back to her.

"Aren't you thirsty?"

"…I'm fine."

She blinked at the harsh tone and watched as he turned the other way, and continued walking. Rising to her feet, she brushed the dirt from her kimono.

"A-Ah! Kurosaki-san! Please wait for me!"

**…**

**…**

_A hand patted onto her head._

_Large hazel eyes peered upwards. _

_"Orihime," _

_"Yes, Onii-chan?" _

_"I…" _

_Hesitated. _

_"I need you to do something for me." _

_"Anything." _

_And he _smiled_._

_"Listen carefully…" _

**…**

**…**

"Kurosaki-san?" she called softly. The sun was in the middle of the sky now, and it was beating down on them. She hadn't seen water or people for miles, and the trees became thicker the further they treaded. "I…I think we're lost."

"No shit, kitten," he tossed over his shoulder.

She bit her bottom lip to stop herself from pouting, "Mou, Kurosaki-san…"

"Stop bitching," Ichigo said. He glanced to his right, and then his left, "Look."

Orihime's eyes widened and followed his line of sight. "O-Oh! It's a village."

"By the looks of it," Ichigo grinned, feral, "It's Mundo."

"Mundo?" Orihime frowned briefly before her face lit up with understanding, "Ah! I heard of that before," her mother had wanted to tear it down for unknown reasons and it had come up during dinner one night. She grimaced when she saw the villagers; children, men, and women. With strong disappointment, she realized her mother truly was a monster.

Slowly, she diverted her attention over to the orange-haired. He was still grinning, his hand tight on his sword's hilt, which was positioned at his right hip. His thumb moved upward to push the sword out, and the sound of metal sliced through the air.

"Eto…Kurosaki-san? Is there a reason you are happy about this?" She tentatively took a step forward, frowning worriedly now, a small furrow in her brows.

He switched his eyes to hers and his grin widened, "Nothing really. I've been to the village before, and let's just say I didn't make a lot of friends."

She clasped her hands together under her chin worriedly, "Why do I feel like that's bad?"

"Because it is, kitten,"

**…**

**…**

Ulquiorra glanced up with an apathetic expression, and watched as the Empress of Japan struck a maid right across the face. His eyes tightened, but he did not intervene. Tatsuki, as the Queen called her, refused to be knocked down, but kept her fists clenched at her sides. Ulquiorra sighed; he was supposed to be meeting with his soon-to-be wife, Orihime, today, but it seemed that something had happened. For some odd reason, he didn't want to know and he didn't truly care.

"How dare you!" The Empress screamed at the maid, "How dare you let her escape!"

Ulquiorra blinked and frowned.

"Y-You…" Tatsuki swallowed thickly, "You speak as though she is a prisoner. Orihime-sama left on her own. I had nothing to do with it."

_Slap!_

"Speak the truth!" The Queen spat viciously, "Or I'll have you fired and living in your pathetic poverty!"

Tatsuki didn't even blink. Slowly, she turned her head and met Ulquiorra's gaze. The man stared back, hands tucked in his expensive suit, and frowning. The Queen followed her gaze, gasped when she saw him, and flailed, nearly tumbling down the grand stairs. She positioned herself politely, grasping both sides of her dress to bow.

"Ulquiorra-sama," the woman greeted with a smile, completely switching her façade, "Y-You're early."

"Yes," he replied in a low tone, "It appears I am."

Tatsuki grimaced, reaching up a hand to cradle her bruising cheek.

"Perhaps _too_ early," he continued.

"Nonsense," The Queen waved a hand at him before turning back to Tatsuki, and spoke in a sickly sweet voice, "Tatsuki-san, would you mind fetching us some tea?"

The maid politely bowed, "Hai," And turned in the other direction, climbing the rest of the crimson, grand steps. Ulquiorra waited for her to vanish from his sight before he addressed the Empress again.

"Are you like this to all your people?" He asked, deadpan.

The Queen jolted, and then frowned, eyes narrowing dangerously, "E-Excuse me?"

"I do not feel the need to repeat myself," Ulquiorra retorted sharply. She did not reply, so he sighed, "It does not matter to me. If it's not too much trouble, I would like to see my fiancé."

The Empress's eyes narrowed, "She is not here."

Crooking both brows, he grimaced, "Where is she?"

"…"

"…"

"I don't know."

**…**

**…**

The village was bustling and wild, much more people than she'd thought at first. She was hungry, very, very hungry and she had realized hours before that she never bought any food or money to spend. She was honestly a lost cause, an idiot really. Sighing, she stayed where Ichigo told her to, and waited.

As she waited, she _thought_. Maybe all of this was truly a bad idea. She didn't know much of the world, and she didn't know what to do in certain situations, besides the limited street-smarts Tatsuki-san had bestowed upon her. She wasn't as naïve as most people thought, but she was polite and she would hold that disposition until someone exhibited some sort of motive to harm her in anyway. Furthermore, she was still uncertain about her traveling companion. She felt a deep aura emitting from him whenever she was near to him; it was _dark_, but also drew her in like a magnet. She didn't realize how attached she had become of his crude remarks and unusual nickname of '_kitten'_. She couldn't say that she did not like it, because her heart would flutter every time he called her that.

She sighed.

_Oh, well._

"Oi, kitten,"

She gasped and looked up almost instantly, her eyes widening when she saw Kurosaki-san standing just a few feet away, holding up a sack that she presumed was full of food. Her stomach growled hungrily and she clenched her small hands into fists. She would not give in so easily.

Narrowing her eyes, she called, "Kurosaki-san?"

As he dug a hand into the sack and pulled out a loaf of bread, he replied, "What the fuck do you want?" lazily.

She ignored his harsh words, "You had no money earlier, so how exactly did you purchase that?"

He crooked a brow and paused in his chewing, "Who the hell said I paid for it?"

"K-Kurosaki-san!" She cried indignantly, "You shouldn't steal from others. It's very, very—" A piece of sweet, deliriously delicious dough was pushed between her plush, pink lips. Despite her internal fight, her tongue swelled at the taste of food and she swallowed without thinking. When she registered her actions, she gasped, and with wide, teary eyes, she sniffled, her chibi'd face already covered in blue rivers of tears, "G-G-Gomennasai, Kami-sama, for I have sinned…"

Ichigo scowled, "The hell? Are you an idiot? It's just food."

"B-But it's _stolen_!" She argued.

"Whatever," he growled back, "This is how people live these days. Either take it or leave it, kitten."

She wiped away her overdramatic tears. "H…Hai…"

"Now eat or fuckin' starve, all I care," He handed her the sack and she took it hesitantly, resigned and hesitant.

_"Thieves!" _

Orihime instantly squealed and dropped the bag like it was on fire. People paused on the streets and glanced over at the man who was jabbing a finger at the indifferent Ichigo and the shaking Orihime. He marched over to the two – to Orihime who had the bag at her feet – and gripped her small wrist in his hand.

"You little bitch! Think you can just take what isn't yours?" he spat at her.

Orihime's eyes grew on her lovely face, "W-What? I'm sor—"

Just as he raised his other hand, and she prepared herself for the blinding pain, only for something black to whizz through the air. Blood splattered onto the ground and Orihime stumbled away from the man. With a shriek of horror and pain, the villager fell to his knees and his stub of a hand. His palm, now on the ground and twitching vaguely, was detached from its rightful place. Orihime's stomach churned, but she stood straight as Ichigo towered over the man before jamming his foot into his back, causing the man to fall face-first onto the ground.

"K-Kurosaki-san!" Orihime reprimanded tightly when she regained her senses, "You hurt him!"

He crooked a brow at her and slung his sleek, black sword out to remove the blood from the blade, "Huh? You were the one just standing there. If you'd used to some common sense, you could've did it a different way, kitten."

"You didn't have to cut off his hand," she bent down at the waist, her full bottom in the air, and tried to calm him the best she could, "I'm very sorry, sir! I can help you! Please, hold on—"

Ichigo's eyes flashed and darkened, "He was going to fuckin' hit you."

"That doesn't call for you to _cut off his hand_, Kurosaki-san!"

They hadn't realized it, but the villagers around the two had paused, watching the entire exchange. Orihime's eyes widened when she realized this, and just then, someone screamed, "YUKUZA! KILLERS!"

With that, there were a few shouts of fear and a rush of wind. Orihime gasped sharply as the villagers swarmed like insects, panicking, grabbing their children and hollering. She glanced up at to see Ichigo sighing irritably. They locked eyes, and Orihime reached out a hand, just to grab onto him. Ichigo's intense eyes narrowed, _waiting_ for her.

_Too late._

Orihime was already being swept back by the crowd. Before she knew it, she was yards away, stumbling and squeaking in surprise as people pushed and shoved in panic. She caught Ichigo's eyes again, and he was walking towards, prepared to grab up the woman and walk away, but with a flash of angry chickens and a scream of a woman, the redhead vanished from Ichigo's sight.

_Dammit._

**…**

**…**

Orihime was usually not the one to panic, but panic she did.

When the shouting and crowd had finally vanished, she was left alone and nervous. She was probably on the other side of the village, and she could see the sun beaming down on the land. And so she walked, eyes searching for anything familiar. She passed by a few fields of crops and huts of families.

Cupping both small hands around her mouth, she called loudly, "Kurosaki-san!"

No response.

"Kurosaki-san, if you can hear me, please say something!"

Nothing.

_"Kurosaki-san!" _

Not a sound.

She cradled a hand against her chest anxiously, her pretty face lined with worry, "Oh, dear…" She sighed. She was lonely, and she hadn't realized how lonely she was. Maybe it was because she was always pampered in the palace and surrounded by people most of the time, or perhaps she had come to like Kurosaki-san's presence. Yes, he was irrational, rough, and hard to get, but at the moment, she wouldn't want any other traveling companion. His hard eyes made her want to figure him out, and she wished to touch his hair, just once.

"I have to find him or Kurosaki-san will be very angry with me and then he might not talk to me like last time and I won't be kitten anymore and the fish will swim in the sky and the clouds will float on the earth and the sun will stop shining, or maybe the moon will stop shining, or perhaps—"

"You, woman," A deep voice stopped the insistent rambling. "What're you doing there?"

Hesitantly, Orihime turned her head, the fine locks of amber flying around her narrow shoulders. She was slightly surprised to see men dressed in armor, on top of brown horses. She could only guess, from their looks, they were guards of some sort of the village.

"A-Ah! A horsey~" She sang happily. Stepping towards the brown, Head horse, she touched its nose gently and petted down the brown, silky fur.

The man, who rode the animal, stared down at the girl with a roving gaze. Her curves were _too_ good, and her face was lovelier than any he'd ever seen. Shaking himself from his thoughts, he glared down at her.

"Your name, peasant?"

She dropped her hand back to her side, and peered up at him with large honey eyes, "Do you mean me?"

"Yes," he nodded in verification.

Orihime smiled softly and pointed to herself, "Orihime."

The leader crooked a brow, "Orihime? Last name?"

She blinked and her smile slowly fell, "I don't have one."

The brow went higher, "You don't?"

"No, sir," she shook her head quickly.

Exchanging glances with his men, he frowned. "That is peculiar."

She clasped her hands behind her back, but did not say anything. Giving a firm nod, one of the soldiers dismounted from his horse and walked towards the curvy, small woman. He stopped one foot away from her, and stared down his nose.

"I have not seen you in this village before. Where did you come from?"

Orihime answered patiently and politely, "From Karakura Kingdom, sir. Sumimasen. Am I overstepping a rule of some sort?"

The man scowled down at her, "You could call it that. We do not usually allow outsiders to intercept these lands."

Another spoke up, "And just moments ago, there was a commotion, something about thieves."

The soldier in front of the young woman narrowed his eyes, "Were you apart of this, onna?" Orihime gasped softly when he took a hold of her left arm and jerked her towards him, "Do not lie, or you will be wasting away behind bars."

Orihime lips parted before she smiled prettily, "Behind bars? I'm not sure I like that threat."

Another dismounted his stead, and she heard the sharp slide of metal piercing the air. She subtly shifted her weight to one foot. There were too many of them to fight, but maybe if she ran…

_No, the horses._

She eyed the animals with hard, wide eyes before she tugged gently on her captive wrist, "Ano…You are hurting me, sir."

The man refused to let go. "Do not toy with us, onna. You'll find yourself in the sky."

Orihime blinked, tilting her head, "Like into the moon?"

The man sputtered, frowning at her for a quick second, "W-Wha—"

"Question~" Orihime sang lightly, despite the circumstances.

"What?" Another snapped.

The girl blinked again, "Is it true the moon is made out of cheese?" When they all stared at her, dumbfounded, she continued pleasantly, "Well, because my Onii-chan told me this story of the Moon-sama who was really big and made out of cheese, and I always wondered if the little blue men took me really, _really_ high, would I be able to go through the moon, but that would be bad because cheese would be in my hair! Mou~ nothing works out for me…"

"…?"

"Am I wrong?" She asked, curiously watching them with her wide, _wide_ eyes.

Finally, the one who held her wrist tightly snapped angrily. Pulling back his fist, he prepared to lunge it through her skull, "Dammit, don't screw with us!"

Orihime nearly huffed. _How are they a part of the Guard and acting like this? _She needed to pay more attention to her country. With quick, yet clumsy movements, she yanked her wrist free, stumbled backward, and dodged out of the way in time for his fist to hit air. When he tripped and fell flat on his face, she hurried in the other direction, her hair flying behind her like a cape.

"After her!" And she heard hooves beat onto the ground.

"WAAAH~!" She cried unhappily, running faster, "Why does this always happen to _me_?" As she heard the horses make their pounce towards her, she dipped at the right moment, the blade he'd aimed at her flying over her head, missing narrowly. She bounced back up the next second, staggering a bit, but managed to stay upright. The sandals on her feet flew off, the left first, and then the right. The Head, who had missed her, pulled his horse's head back around, and thrust towards her.

She jerked to a stop. In a second, she'll be trapped.

In that second, she thought of hard brown eyes and a sleek black sword.

_Kurosaki-san!_

Just as the steads became closer, and she felt her heart almost spit out of her mouth, she heard the sound of something flying through the air before making a blunt blow against something. Her eyes hesitantly fluttered open – for she'd closed them when she realized her fate – and she was surprised to see blood spurt from the Head's mouth. She watched with shock as he fell from his horse and blood spread under his limp form.

She took a step back as the brown horse panicked and kicked before trotting off quickly, leaving its dying master behind. The other soldiers gasped in shock, mouths falling as well as their swords.

"W-Wha…?" Orihime whispered before glancing up.

The man _wasn't_ Ichigo – his hair _wasn't_ orange – in fact it was a sleek black color that framed his narrow, handsome face. Something that caught her attention were the glasses, which were available in this Edo era, but were very, _very_ expensive and usually brought from Holland when they were willing to trade with Orihime's country. He was draped in a nice, dark blue kimono, and a sword hitched at his waist.

"Are these men giving you trouble," slowly, his indigo eyes slid to Orihime's large gaze, "Miss?"

She gasped slightly; this was the first time in the while – since she'd left the castle – that she'd been addressed politely. It was almost _nice_.

But, of course, being Orihime, she waved her hands in front of her quickly until they blurred, "N-No! I'm quite alright, sir."

A smile flittered across his lips, "So polite," And he raised both arms, positioned correctly around a bow and arrow. Orihime eyes widened at his perfect angle and strength.

"Sugoi…" She whispered in awe.

"Please," the young man continued, "move away from the girl."

The guards gnashed their teeth and unsheathed swords, "Who the hell do you think you are, bastard?" To make emphasis for the point, one grabbed a fistful of Orihime's thick, russet hair. Orihime instantly struggled.

The black-haired sighed, "I do not like to kill important people, but you are annoyingly persistent." He positioned his bow, "Please try to dodge this, Miss."

Orihime glanced at him and then dug into her side, "Yes, sir!" Without another thought, her hand came down with the sharp dagger – which she'd kept from saving Kurosaki-san – and jammed it into the man's thigh. Almost instantly, he howled, but did not let go of her. So she twisted it with great effort and winced when she felt the blade hit the bone. The man screamed, and released her. She felt a couple strands of amber yanked from her head, but she ignored the searing pain and stooped just in time for a bow to slash into the guard's chest viciously. He fell to the ground like a sack full of bricks and gurgled before falling silent. Before the others could run with their tails between their legs, bows fired off like bullets and hit every target, one through the eye, another in the heart, and another straight through the head.

Orihime had thrown her hands over her head during the entire ordeal, but when she heard the approaching footsteps, she hurried to look up, eyes growing wide when the young man stopped a few feet away from her.

Indigo blue locked with wide honey.

Slowly, he tucked away his bow and arrow, settling the two on his lean back. With a small smile, he held out his hand, ready for her to take.

Surprising him, she smiled brightly, taking it quickly, "Arigato!"

**…**

**…**

Hard, intense brown eyes roamed the riverbank.

_Shit._

"…She isn't fuckin' here."

_Damn broad._

He growled under his breath, slamming his fist in a nearby, small tree. It creaked and then fell to the earth, where it would remain. Cursing, he headed the other way. Why should he worry about the stupid woman? Shouldn't have gotten herself swept away like that…

His eyebrows merged.

_"Kurosaki-san, right? I know you do not know me, but I was wondering if you could help me with something." _She had said with a small, nervous smile, which somehow appeared endearing on her small, beautiful face.

Ichigo's jaw clenched tightly.

"Oh?"

"Huh? Who's that?"

"Look! Over there!"

"It's my lucky day! Fucking Kurosaki is here."

A slice of metal went through his ears.

Ichigo smirked, already fingering the hilt of his sword.

_Looks like I'll be busy for a while…_

**…**

**…**

"You're not hurt, are you?" The stranger asked as they continued to walk. Orihime's eyes were larger than usual; he was a stranger, yet he was walking _beside_ her, and _very_ close at that. She was used to walking behind someone; her mother, the maids and butlers, _Kurosaki-san_. That name brought a sensation to her belly she wished not to think of. She was beginning to feel anxious for him, but he said he had a couple of friends in this village, so why wouldn't he be fine? Wait, was he serious about that? She could only hope that he didn't bring more trouble to himself and—

"Miss?"

Orihime broke from her thoughts and locked eyes with blue ones. A squeal erupted from her throat as she hopped back, thoroughly frightened. The black-haired man frowned briefly as he watched her scurry away from him.

"I-I'm sorry! I'm not used to people being so close!" She explained when she saw his expression, but continued to stand a couple of feet away. Reaching back a small hand, she scratched the back of her head awkwardly, "But…I-I want to thank you for saving me before."

He averted his gaze quickly, surprising her, "It was nothing."

"It was!" She insisted, clenching her fist in front of her now, "B-But won't you get into serious trouble? Those were guards, after all. We'll be in jail by daybreak tomorrow!" She fretted.

"Please," the man scoffed, "The Emperor hasn't been paying much attention to the east of Japan. There are so many crimes, killings, and deaths that it's almost normal. You have nothing to worry about."

Orihime, though, felt the complete opposite. Slowly, her expression fell, and her arms went back to her sides, "Nothing to worry about…" She repeated softly. Maybe this was a bad idea, as she thought earlier. Her mother obviously wasn't doing what needed to be done, and as a ruler of the noble statures, she should be able to put in her two cents about the whole ordeal, maybe even help.

_But…Onii-chan…_

"Miss?"

Orihime squeaked, a shudder moving up her spine as she was frightened, and glanced over at him. He was crooking a brow at her peculiar behavior. "H-Hai?"

Softly, he smiled a bit, "Are you really sure you're alright? You seem edgy."

"I-I'm fine!" She insisted, "Thank you, again, but I should really get goi—"

"You should sit down for a bit."

Orihime paused in mid-step. "Um…"

"And I'm sure you're hungry, aren't you?" He raised a brow again, daring her to object to his theories.

"N-No! I'm fine! I swear—" Orihime's stomach growled loudly, cutting her off.

"Come," he said, nudging his dark head to the side, upward the path, "I'll get you something to eat."

Orihime watched as he started his walk up the small hill and then looked back towards the bodies. Without thinking, she hurried over. The man turned, frowning.

"What're you doing?"

**…**

**…**

Wiping sweat off her brow, Orihime sighed heavily. Truly, she had worked hard. Being physically weak, and also a girl did not have all the benefits in the world. Due to this, Orihime couldn't do very much. She held the shovel with two, small hands and managed to stay upright. Her entire body was shaking from overexertion and the sun was starting to set. They had been out way too long.

The man swiped a hand across his forehead, too and threw the rest of the dirt in. Six graves were mounted onto the ground, flowers on each. Orihime gave a soft frown, and cluthed at her necklace, the hibiscus clips sticking to her sweaty palm.

Clasping her hands together, she bowed her head and prayed; prayed to Kami-sama, prayed to the men's families, prayed to Onii-chan. When she was satisfied, she bowed respectively. "I am very sorry," she murmured to them, to herself.

"This is the first time I've buried the people I murdered," The dark haired man said from beside her, watching her closely all the while.

Orihime glanced at him, "You have killed a lot of people?"

"Quite," there was a small, weird smile on his face – sad, yet tainted. "I've grown up like this, defending myself. Mostly, I've killed people who did many wrong-doings, but I've never murdered a child. I cannot say the same for women."

Orihime merely blinked in reply.

"Does this bother you?" He asked after a few moments of silence. His voice changed a bit – defensive and _hard_.

Orihime giggled a bit, reaching back to rub the back of her head, long, silken locks mixing in between her fingers, "N-No! In fact, I'm glad you told me. Although, I don't like peoples' lives being taken. But…It seems," her eyes softened as her arm fell back to her side, "I'm used to it now."

The man raised both brows, his specs glinting in the light, "How so? Have you lived in the east a long time then?"

Orihime blinked and then shook her head.

The eyebrows climbed higher, "Then where have you lived that would make you feel accustomed to such things?"

Orihime glanced at the sky, back to him, "Ano…I don't really know."

He sweat-dropped, "You don't know where you lived? Where you came from?"

She giggled nervously again, "I guess not. Hehehe…"

Sighing, he decided to let the subject drop for now. Together, they finished burying the murdered soldiers, just as the sun began to descend even further down. Orihime sighed again and flicked back a strand of honey.

"Thank you, Stranger-san," she said to him with a bright, soft smile, "I'm glad I could put them to rest."

He readjusted his glasses on his narrow nose, "You wouldn't have to if I hadn't killed them." Her smile fell, "It doesn't matter." He turned the other direction, dropping his shovel, but not before Orihime took a hold of his kimono.

"A-Ano…!" She stammered for a second, "I-I'm Orihime. Hajimemashite. P-Please take care of me." She bowed politely, releasing the material of his attire.

He turned his head back towards her, blinking rapidly, before he also bowed to her, "Ishida Uryu. Nice to meet you…Huh."

Orihime blinked up at him, "What is it?"

"Your name is Orihime-san?"

"Hai."

"Nothing else?"

"…No."

"Sou ka." With that, he left it alone, turning the other direction, "Well, Orihime-san, let's go."

**…**

**…**

It was pretty grand for just a villager. Yet, Orihime could see from his apparel and weapons, he had some money stored somewhere. It was only a one-story home, but was grand in land and far from the village. It was relatively empty, only a few pots here and there, clothing, and futons. She could see another room towards the back, probably the cooking area.

Ishida emerged from the back room and carried two bowls. As he sat beside her, he handed her the bowl. As soon as the scent of food hit Orihime's nose, everything was lost. A sweat-drop began to form on the black-haired man's head as he watched her.

"This is really good~!" She hummed in enjoyment, "Arigato, Ishida-san!" She continued to eat joyfully, exclaiming her appreciation every few moments. Ishida smiled a bit.

"I'm glad," he murmured, "I haven't cooked for anyone in a while besides myself."

Orihime paused from her savage eating, "Eh? Don't you have a family?"

"No," he replied, ducking his chopsticks in the miso, "My mother died giving birth to me and I've never met my father. My grandfather taught me how to survive and left me this house before he passed away. I barely go into the village and I travel most of the time, so I do not have time for such trivial things."

Orihime bit her bottom lip, "Still, it's very nice of you to accept me into your home."

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, "I suppose. I have never done anything like this, Orihime-san."

"You seem like such a person," Orihime insisted, "Don't bring yourself down, please." When she reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, he glanced away and leaned from her touch. Orihime instantly retracted her hand and placed it back to her lap. "S-Sorry." After all, she did not know him very well.

"No matter," he huffed. After a few moments of them eating together, he said, "May I ask a question?"

"Hai~" She stirred her miso enthusiastically.

He lowered his eyes to his food, "You seem…very familiar with my behavior. Have we met before?"

Orihime blinked and then shook her head. Swallowing down her food, she smiled brightly, "You see, I'm traveling with someone now."

He frowned softly, "Traveling?"

"Yes! He's very much like you! He's hard to get and very quiet. When we talk, it's to offer me something."

"He sounds like an awful companion for you," He retorted, "You should leave him behind."

"EH?" Orihime paused from eating, "B-But he's very kind!"

"You just said—"

"Maybe not on the outside, Ishida-san, but on the inside, I know he's a very good person," her smile widened, "Like you." Orihime's face fell a bit when he turned away from her, averting his eye, "Ishida-san?"

"You're very agile yourself. You defended yourself, after all." he put in, but did not face her.

"A-Actually, I'm very clumsy! And I was nervous because I'm not good in hand-to-hand combat and the soldiers were big and scary and one grabbed my hair! I get scared easily so I back out of things, but my Tatsuki-san can usually take the fear right out of me," she frowned slightly, "B-But Tatsuki-san isn't here…"

He lifted a brow, "Tatsuki?"

"She's…" Orihime paused and then shook her head, "It's nothing! But again, thank you for saving me Ishida-san."

"You keep thanking me. Don't thank me for killing, Orihime-san."

"H-Hai!"

"And you don't have to be so stiff."

"H-Hai!"

"Are you still hungry?"

"…H-Hai…"

**…**

**…**

The chocolate brown gaze narrowed.

_Found you._

**…**

**…**

"You don't have to keep getting me bowls, Ishida-san!" She protested as he gathered her dish, "I can do it myse—"

_Slam!_

Orihime froze when she heard the door behind her slide open. She turned her head, wide eyes curious, her amber hair flying around her slender shoulders. Imagine how surprised she was when she saw Kurosaki-san, orange hair and all, standing there in his black kimono, dark eyes narrowed.

"A-Ah!" She exclaimed softly, "Kurosaki-san, you're alright—"

Suddenly, she felt something hit her head. It felt oddly like a fist. It wasn't enough to bruise her, but to get the point across. She whined dejectedly, lifting her hand to rub her abused cranium, "Wah~! Kurosaki-san!" She pouted unhappily.

"Damn, you're a fuckin' handful," he groused back, a menacing scowl on his face, "And your head is as hard as a rock."

"Mou~ how mean…" She muttered, allowing her hand to fall back to her lap. She completely forgot Ishida was in the same room, "Kurosaki-san, I've been looking all over for you."

"Boke," he quipped, "Obviously, you weren't looking good enough."

"B-But—WAH!" She was jerked up to him, her weak legs forcing her to stand. Already, when she caught his scent, she felt the familiar heat in her cheeks and belly, "K-Kurosaki-san…" He tightened his hold around her fragile wrist.

"You're small," he grumbled, "If you get lost again, I won't bother finding you."

"B-But…!"

"C'mon." He tugged her towards the door and she tried to keep up. Just then – if she'd blinked, she would've missed it – an arrow pierced the wood of the door, inches from Ichigo's hand. Ichigo's jaw clenched.

Orihime's wide eyes turned to the culprit, "I-Ishida-san…?" He already had his bow and arrow positioned, his expression aloof as he kept his hard eyes on Kurosaki-san.

"I will only say this once," Uryu spoke in a calm, clear tone, "Release her."

"Ishida," Ichigo growled, fire dancing in his eyes, "Long time, no see." Despite the casual greeting, his hand found the hilt of his sword, the other tightening the grip around Orihime's wrist.

"Kurosaki," the black-haired acknowledged.

Orihime, confused as ever, darted her eyes between them, "Eto…What's going on here?"

**…**

**…**

**MOOOOUUU~ In this chapter I wanted more Ichihime moments, but I failed, bringing in Ishida-kun like my brain advised me to do! I promise in the next, I'll bring more. Plus, the story's only beginning. You all go a see in Ichigo's life, Isshin left for a reason and it'll be revealed, and Masaki is not dead! But I will never, ever tell where she is! **

**As you can see, Orihime is still battling with herself to stay on the right path, while Ichigo already seems protective of her, if only a little. Darn it, he only got to say kitten a couple of times! MOOOOUUU~! I suck at this! Anyway, I think my characters are just a little OOC, for Ichigo and Orihime, I mean. I had to revise this chapter a lot, because I knew Orihime wasn't all that good about blood being split. She isn't as naïve and heartwarming though either, but she has a soul and she knew when the time was right. Ichigo, on the other hand, is just sex on legs. Take it or leave it. Plus, I want to make more sexual tension between the two. **

**As Happy would say, "They llllllike each other!"**

**Review for me, please, please! I'd like to know your thoughts on this chapter.**

**-Star**


	4. Chapter 4

**…**

**…**

"Ishida," Ichigo growled, fire dancing in his eyes, "Long time, no see." Despite the casual greeting, his hand found the hilt of his sword, the other tightening the grip around Orihime's wrist.

"Kurosaki," the black-haired acknowledged.

Orihime, confused as ever, darted her eyes between them, "Eto…What's going on here?"

The two ignored her. The air was tense now, not the carefree place Orihime had felt just moments before Kurosaki-san arrived. Now, Ishida's eyes were narrowed dangerously and he tightened his grip around his wooden bow and arrow. Orihime darted her eyes down to Ichigo's other hand, where he was touching his sword, thumb popping it from the sheath.

"Don't!" Orihime cried, and before she could help herself, she was already grabbing onto Ichigo's wrist. Kurosaki-san paused and glanced down to glare at her, but their eyes locked and her pink lips parted. His eyes narrowed, heavily gazing at her and she released his hand a second later, trying to ignore the fire of electricity down her arm, "I-I mean…If you fight…"

Still, Ichigo continued to hold her wrist tightly, "Don't get in my way, kitten. You'll end up getting hurt, too."

"B-But—"

"Don't threaten her," Ishida spat, his eyes tightening, "She's not some toy, Kurosaki. Not like your other wenches."

"And what would you know?" Ichigo practically growled, "Don't speak like you know everything, Ishida. It only pisses me off."

"Eto—"

"Well, that makes two of us, now doesn't it?" Ishida countered snidely, "Now, let the Orihime-san go."

"The only way you're going to make me let kitten go is killing me. And we both know you don't have the guts for that."

"I'd kill you in a heartbeat."

"P-Please st—"

"I'd like to see you try."

"Kurosaki," Ishida growled threateningly, "I am not afraid of you."

"Neither am I."

They both glared at each other – Ichigo glowering over his shoulder, fingering his sword, and Ishida's hands tight around his arrow and bow. Orihime stood between the two, wrist ensnared in Ichigo's long fingers. Her instincts were telling her to jerk away and hurry from the room, but she stood still, facing Ichigo's back and awkwardly pressed against him. His scent was enough to make her blush, and she bit her bottom lip, darting her eyes between each man.

"Please don't fight," she cut in softly, but the eyes darted to her. She jolted under their harsh stares, but did not relent her reprimanding, "I-If you fight, you'll hurt each other."

"Don't tell me you're sticking up for this fuckin' guy," Ichigo snapped at her.

"W-Well—"

"Don't yell at her, Kurosaki or your throat will be all over these walls," Indeed, Ishida's arrow was aimed past Orihime's ear and towards Ichigo's neck and collarbone. Orihime squeaked when Ichigo hauled her on the other side of the room, shoving her to the floor. He turned fully, unsheathed his sword, revealing the sleek, black blade.

"Ishida, let's do this." Ichigo grinned manically, "I'm tired of seein' your damned face."

Ishida pulled back his arrow and bow, placing them on the floor. With one movement of his hand, his sword was also pulled out, and presented to the room. Orihime's eyes grew.

Slicing indigo met hard brown.

"W-Wait—"

She was cut off as Ishida lunged and their swords clashed together. Orihime shouted out a warning as they fought and twisted, throwing their steel swords this way and that way. Orihime stood without a second thought and dodged out of the way in time for Ishida's blade to fly over her head.

"Bastard!" Ichigo spat as their swords met again, "You could've taken off her head."

Ishida's eyes tightened, "Why the hell do you care?"

"Kurosaki-san! Ishida-san! Please, stop fighting!" She shouted over their harsh words. Of course, neither listened, which resulted in Ishida tumbling from the home and Ichigo following. Orihime hurried after the two to see Ichigo lunge over Ishida's head. Uryu dodged out of the way in time for the black blade to sink into the earth, and the black-haired stood a moment later.

Without waiting for Orihime to say anything, the two rushed forward and slammed their swords together. Blood spilled as they passed each other, and after a second, Orihime saw Ishida stumble to the floor.

"You really are a sly bastard," Ichigo commented with a wry smirk.

Ishida wiped the blood from his cheek, "Yes. You should know this by now, Kurosaki."

"If you hadn't moved in time, your whole head would be gone," Ichigo retorted, tightening his hands around his sword.

"No. Actually, your moves are too sloppy and open, which are easy for me to follow, imbecile. Anyone could see past that move," The black-haired commented, nudging the glasses up his nose.

"Oh, really?" Ichigo snarled, whirling back around to rush towards the man, "See through this!" They clashed again, and Orihime had a difficult time seeing who the best was; they both seemed to match in strength and agility, yet Ichigo's attacks were more based off of instinct and strength while Ishida was precise and planning with his assaults.

"Stop it!" She shrieked at them, "Someone will get hurt!"

"No shit, kitten," Ichigo tossed over his shoulder. Orihime watched with surprise as Ichigo's sword was knocked from his hand by Ishida. Of course, Ichigo wouldn't go down without a fight. Instead, he smirked and was in the air the next second. His foot met Ishida's jaw with a wet, blunt noise and the black-haired man stumbled before falling onto his back. Ichigo's sword was at his throat the next second.

"It seems," Ichigo's smirk widened, "you need more practice, Ishida."

"Damn you…!" The spectacled man growled.

"Yeah, yeah," Ichigo waved him off, "See you in Hell, bastard." Just as he raised his sword, fully prepared to behead the man, Orihime hopped onto his back and dug her hands into his face.

Ichigo shouted a bit in shock as Orihime grasped his cheeks and tugged with all her might, yelling out, "Noooo~! Don't kill Ishida-san! If you do, the rain will stop and the deserts will get drier and where will the little green men sleep if the camels all die!? Kurosaki-saaan~! Think of the little green men!"

"Dammit, woman!" Ichigo shouted, stumbling around before he regained his footing. Somehow, the sword had slipped from his hand and Orihime dug her feet into his waist. Growling in irritation, Ichigo pried the woman from his back, only for Orihime to retaliate with a swift kick to the shin with her bare foot. Ichigo cursed as he staggered to the ground, somehow wrestling her underneath his long, strong body.

When he finally was able to pin her hands to the ground, she realized how close he was, "Don't move!" He hissed into her face and she gasped sharply as his scent overrode her senses. His presence was overwhelming, and his intense, amber eyes locked with hers. Instantly, the world and problems seemed to fall away as Orihime paused from her struggling and wiggling.

"K-Kurosaki-san…"

"Don't move," he repeated, his voice a tad bit darker. Orihime obeyed, completely still as he stared at her face, dragging his eyes roughly from her cheeks, to her eyes, hair, and then lips. She licked them nervously, and he seemed to follow the movement. Her heart paused and then continued in a wild beat against her chest.

Just then – and she was slightly grateful – something hit Ichigo in the back of the head. There was a hard thump and Ichigo hollered in surprise and pain as he flew back from Orihime. The redhead gasped when she saw Ishida over her, dark blue eyes checking for any injury.

She ignored him thoroughly, pushing to her feet to rush over to Ichigo. He was lying on his stomach just a few inches away, but completely unconscious. Orihime instantly fretted over her companion, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks, "K-Kurosaki-san? Kurosaki-san! Please get a hold of yourself!"

Ishida dropped the stone he'd used to bestow upon Ichigo and cupped a hand over his bleeding cheek, "That's peculiar. Usually, it takes a while for that idiot to go down."

"Eh?" Orihime glanced at him the back to Ichigo, frowning softly, "He must be exhausted…" With careful fingers, she pushed back his heavy locks and found his surprisingly handsome, relaxed face. A strange sensation pulsed through her, and she suddenly wished to touch his cheek, follow the curves of his face, if only for a bit. But the sharp sound of metal behind her made her pause. Turning her head, she was able to see Ishida-san pull his own sword from the ground and move towards Kurosaki-san.

Orihime was defending the unconscious man the next second, "What're you doing?" She questioned, and Ishida frowned, surprised and confused.

"I'm putting him out of his misery, Orihime-san. He's the lowest scum, he deserves to die." He took a step forward only for Orihime to glare at him sharply.

"Don't touch him, Ishida-san," she warned softly.

He crooked a brow, "Look, Orihime-san, I am not the bad person here. I understand if you have had a relationship with hi—"

"That's not it!" She replied heatedly, "He's my friend and I will not allow you to hurt him."

They stared at each other for a few moments, the silence and tense air of the night causing Orihime to be on the edge. Gently, a breeze knocked through, levitating her hair in the air and Ishida to readjust his glasses.

"I cannot stand the sight of him," He turned away, "I will not kill him tonight, but if he does something wrong in my eyes, I will have to slit open his throat." He sheathed his sword slowly, and she watched him walk back towards his home. When the door slid shut, Orihime returned her attention to Ichigo, who lay sprawled beneath her.

"Gomennasai, Kurosaki-san," She said softly, "I think Ishida-san is very angry with you," she heard a vague snore come slide from his mouth. Her eyebrows crinkled before she beamed brightly, "You must be really tired. Were you searching for me?"

He continued to snore softly, eyes closed, and body limp.

"Well, I'll protect you, too, Kurosaki-san! And if you get lost, I'll go find you. Hehe…but you're really tall, so it wouldn't be a problem…" She frowned shortly, curiously, "I should get you out of the dirt."

**…**

**…**

_Large eyes blinked._

_Sora continued to smile gently. _

_"Are you sure, Onii-chan?" _

_"I wouldn't be asking this of you if I wasn't."_

**…**

**…**

"Please…" Orihime bowed, her hair falling over her shoulders and onto the wooden ground. "I'm begging you, Ishida-san."

The man's hands clenched into tight fists as he stared hard at the young woman, "Lady Orihime—"

"Please," she repeated, rising a bit to stare him in the eyes with her amber, hazel gaze. "I-If you do, I promise I won't let him harm you."

His eyes narrowed, "You cannot keep that promise. Kurosaki is unpredictable and rash. I do not even want him around _you_. He was practically harassing you a few hours ago."

Orihime blinked, sitting up. Quickly, she recalled the moment she'd locked eyes with Kurosaki-san, and she'd felt the familiar heat in her belly. Blushing under her pale skin, she twisted her small fingers into her pink kimono. "U-Um…"

"From what I heard, you do not have relations with him, Orihime-san. I do not understand what the problem is. Look," he stared into her eyes, surprising her, "you can stay here with me, Orihime-san. If only for a while, and to make you feel safer. Kurosaki will be far from here and I'll—"

"No…"

"Pardon?"

"No!" She shouted. He flinched back, stunned. "I-I don't want that," She murmured, lowering her tone, "Kurosaki-san is a very good friend to me already, and…and I do not want him alone."

He blinked at her. "You are serious?"

"Un." She nodded vigorously. "Just for one night and Kurosaki-san and I will be out of your home. Promise!" She bowed again, her hair sweeping against the floor once more.

After a moment of stiff silence, he heaved a sigh and raked a hand through his hair. "Orihime-san, I have not known you for the longest, and I don't usually trust people, but…" She hesitantly lifted her head and met his gaze again. Softly, rigidly, he smirked, "Just for _one_ night."

Quickly, she was on her knees, squealing happily, clapping her small hands together.

"Yet," she paused, blinking, "I do not wish to see his face for the whole night, and I expect him to be gone by morning."

Orihime licked her lips nervously before nodding, "H-Hai! I promise, Ishida-san." When he glanced away from her, and slid his eyes closed, she decided it was time for her to leave him alone. Standing clumsily, she ventured away from the room and into the back. Sliding the door open, she found the dark, small room and closed the door after her.

There lied Kurosaki-san, covers draped over his legs, and snoring quietly.

"I don't understand, Kurosaki-san," she murmured into the dark, "Ishida-san is very kind."

**…**

**…**

_Thump!_

Orihime's head snapped up and she blinked rapidly when the sunlight beamed into her eyes.

"A-Ah…" She had fallen asleep, typical. Sitting up, she rubbed her slightly aching head. She quickly realized she was resting on the steps of the home, her slender body able to fit onto the wood. She had no idea how she'd fallen asleep during the entire ordeal, but she did.

She was thinking. When she'd left Kurosaki-san to sleep, she had slipped outside, settled onto the steps, and stared up at the moon, so big and full. She began to think of her brother – lost in the stars like a supernova. She was homesick – and she hadn't even realized it – she missed Tatsuki-san, her mother, her father, and even the empty hallways of the castle. And with the problems stacking on her shoulders, she began to mull over the idea of venturing Far East, just to find this _one_ man. And Kurosaki-san, she might've been wasting his time, perhaps hers. She wanted to help these towns, these people, but the only way she could do that was going back to the palace and resolving her difficulties – which included marrying Ulquiorra-sama and allowing her freedom to be thrown to the floor.

Blinking from her thoughts, she heard the heavy footsteps. Turning her head slowly, she was surprised to see Kurosaki-san standing in the doorway, dressed in his black kimono, and the sleek sword in his hand.

"Kurosaki-san!" She rejoiced, "You're awake."

He casted her a look and the scowl on his face deepened. "We're leaving." With that, he leaned down and caught her wrist. She gasped at the sensation pooling where he touched, but she was hauled to her feet the next second and pulled from the porch.

"B-But, Kurosaki-san—"

"If you get in my way again," he muttered forcibly, "I'll tie you up, got it?"

Her face erupted into pink, "Y-You can't do that!"

"I can and I will, kitten," he nearly growled, "I ain't into hurting women, but it's your own damned fault if you're injured."

"You shouldn't fight," she yanked her wrist from his hold with surprising strength and he jerked to a stop, "Ishida-san is my fri—"

"He's a killer, just like me, kitten,"

Her lips trembled at the word, "You're not a killer…" She trailed her own self off.

Yes.

Kurosaki-san was a killer. He was reckless and impulsive, but he also held the careless grace of a panther and his eyes always held a wicked spark of blood and strength. He stared down at her through the thick strands of orange, his chocolate brown gaze scorching its way through her.

Even if she did not know him, and even though the attraction – this weird sensation between them that wouldn't _go away_ – was strong, she still knew Kurosaki-san wasn't that type of person, he wasn't, he wasn't, he _was not_—

A hand clamped around hers hard. She gasped sharply, reeling back slightly at the bolts of electricity. She hadn't even noticed she'd been reaching towards him, and now her palm was being crushed by his large fingers.

"Don't touch me," he murmured and she tried not to flinch at the tone. Quickly, he dropped her hand, as though her flesh had burned his, and sheathed his sword. "Don't get attached to me, kitten. I'll help you cross this journey, but I won't stick around. Don't expect anything more from me."

She lowered her eyes to the floor and tried not to pay attention to her heart sinking slowly, "H-Hai…" She heard him turn away, but she also heard the familiar sound of a bow being readied. Gasping, she lifted her head to see Ishida-san pointing a bow directly to Ichigo's head. Kurosaki-san was frozen, but his hand remained on his sword.

"Ishida-san!" She reprimanded sharply.

"You said he would be gone by morning, Orihime-san. I did not want to see his face." Uryu replied bluntly, keeping eye contact with the orange-haired.

Ichigo sneered, "I should be sayin' the same thing."

Ishida's eyes narrowed, Ichigo pulled out his blade by an inch.

Quickly, Orihime ran in between the two, glancing at them both, "You will not fight each other!"

"Move, kitten,"

"Orihime-san…"

"No! Stop it!" She ordered, stomping her small foot for emphasis, "If you want to hurt, Kurosaki-san, then you'll have to hurt me also."

There was silence for one heartbeat, two, three.

Slowly, the bow and arrow was pulled down to his side, "Please leave off of my land, then, Orihime-san. I am very sorry to put this burden on you."

"It's…alright."

**…**

**…**

She did not have many things, and she'd been at the large palace for almost her entire life. She was practically born into being a maid and servant for her Kingdom. Sighing heavily, she wrapped up the cloth, forcing her little clothes together and heaved it up to her side.

"Orihime…" She murmured to herself, eyes tightening as her gaze went to the window.

With a heavy heart, Arisawa Tatsuki left the village, and the Kingdom, behind.

**…**

**…**

_Achoo!_

His eyebrow twitched.

"Ah…" She breathed out from behind him, "Someone must be talking about me."

Of course, his stupid mouth had to open and reply. "Idiot. Who would talk about you?"

He could imagine her blinking those long lashes and then the pout that would grace her pink, plush lips. The wind knocked softly through the air, and he could vaguely smell her scent. He began to realize this all too soon; he was too used to her now, too used to her long hair that would whip with the wind, and her large honey eyes that would stare up at him, and the fine lips that would whisper, _Kurosaki-san_, until he'd have to tell her to shut up.

_She's dangerous to be around._

Kurosaki Ichigo was irritated. He did not _like_ women. He fucked them and then left, whenever he had time to get in a good lay. Usually, the women these days were prepared to throw themselves at you, and Ichigo had no problem taking advantage of that.

_But with _her_…_

"Gomen ne, Kurosaki-san,"

He continued to walk, because if he glanced behind him, and he saw her, he would say something he should _not_. It was just attraction, he was sure. There was nothing deeper, there would _never_ be anything deeper than attraction to her gorgeous looks.

"If I did not meet Ishida-san, you wouldn't have gotten hurt the yesterday," she muttered, and he could imagine her glancing at the ground shamefully, like a child.

He walked _faster_.

_There is nothing there_.

_There is nothing there._

_There is _nothing_ there._

"A-Ah! Kurosaki-san! Why're you walking so fast, ne?" She called behind him. She sound oddly farther away than usual.

_"Help, Onii-chan, help!"_

_"Ichi-nii!"_

Fuck.

"Kuro — eep! Oww…"

Without his consent, his head snapped backwards and found the girl on the ground, heavy hair around her pretty face, and her eyes rounded, as though she couldn't believe she'd fallen.

"Shit," he cursed lowly, breaking himself from his disgusting thoughts. He turned and walked back towards her. Stooping down, he lifted her upper body from the ground and tried to ignore the feeling of her soft skin in his hands – even though it was through her clothing. "The hell is wrong with you? Don't fuckin' run."

She looked up at him, wide eyes teary, "Kurosaki-san…"

_Annoying. _

But his heart and body were some idiots.

Sighing, he placed his hands under her armpits and pulled her to her knees. Her legs spread under her in a W-shape. Grasping her right arm, he didn't see her wince or pull away, so he placed a hand on the top of her head and then let her go completely, "You're not hurt, so stop being a baby."

"H-Hai…I don't mean to be a burden."

"Shut up. You really are a cat."

She blinked up at him, "Is this why you call me kitten?"

He snorted vaguely, "Kinda."

Her lower lip jutted out and he tried to stop himself from staring, "How?"

"Your eyes are really big," he stated and her nose wrinkled cutely, "And you're small, with bright hair, and you try to act like a tiger, even though you're scared and a big fuckin' baby."

She pouted again, "I-I…am not!"

"Shut up," he stood while she stared up at him. The wind blew again and Orihime lifted a hand to keep the bangs from her face. She squinted through the thick tresses, but gave no fight. "Oi," Ichigo called shortly and she glanced back up at him, innocent curiosity written across her face.

His eyes narrowed.

"Don't run off like that again, kitten."

She blinked, taken aback.

"I'm serious."

"Are you mad about Ishida-san?" She asked softly, curiously.

He scoffed, "Tch. I've hated that prick since the day I met him." Leaning down, he grasped her soft jaw in his hand. She gasped sharply at the contact as he peered at her, "Don't leave my side without my permission, kitten. Don't until we finish this bullshit trip, got it?"

With dazed, large eyes, she nodded, "Hai, Kurosaki-san…"

Standing, he released her quickly and averted his gaze. "We should head out of the village. I'm still itching from staying in Ishida's house too long," his hand went to his sword, "And I still wanna kill that bastard."

Orihime rose to her feet, "Then we should head along~!" She spread her arms out, as though she were flying, and the air whipped through her locks, causing them to blow behind her shapely form as she ran ahead of him, "Come, Kurosaki-san~!"

"Tch," but he followed.

_Geez._

Fuckin' annoying.

_But…_

The sun beamed, but not as bright as her permanent smile.

Ichigo sighed deeply, lashes lowering, watching her sing his name and giggle like a child. His bangs brushed his forehead and eyes, brows furrowed as a small, arrogantly pleased smile lifted his lips.

_Tch. _

"Don't run, idiot,"

**…**

**…**

**Finished another chapter! Shaboom! Anyways, as I promised, more Ichihime and, yes, this is still just the BEGINNING! BTW, Ishida-kun WILL be back, probably sooner than later, I just wanted Orihime and Ichigo to set out on their adventure, alone, before Ishida and the rest of the gang joined them, and we all know how wild they can get. **

**There is still the whole problem with Orihime being a ruler of her country, getting married to Ulquiorra, and Ichigo's past, so I have a lot of things to cover. I want my readers to be surprised though! Banzai~! Now, with Ichi, you can see he is attracted to Orihime and a tad bit protective already, but no one's in love yet, at least, not to me. **

**Please, review. It makes me want to dance. **

**-Star**


	5. Chapter 5

**…**

**…**

It was getting darker now.

Orihime glanced up towards the sky and bit her bottom lip. Looking back towards Ichigo's strong back, she nearly reached up to touch him, but hesitated and dropped her arm again. Instead, she murmured,

"Ne, Kurosaki-san?"

It took a couple of seconds before he replied, "This had better be good, kitten."

Orihime bit her plush bottom lip, "W-Well," she pushed back a strand of honey, "I was going to say it is getting rather dark, Kurosaki-san. We should rest."

He paused in mid-step and Orihime nearly knocked into his back. She steadied herself, glancing up at him curiously. His head turned, and his eyes seemed to search for whatever. Orihime decided to wait, but it wasn't for long because he found it. Instantly, he started to move in that direction. Orihime followed – of course – and it wasn't long until they were on the very edge of Mundo, and came across the small hut.

Not many people lived on this part of the village, she could see that. But what confused her was the vast field of corn and rice planted behind the small hut, fit for one, and the clean, spacious air. If the sun wasn't setting, she was sure she would've seen many children.

"Kurosaki-san?"

"Don't worry. I know 'em." He walked forward, paused, and then raised both hands to his mouth to call out, "GETABOSHI!"

Orihime jolted in surprise, her eyes widening. It was silent for a few seconds before a light, tinkling laugh filled her ears. She glanced around wildly, searching for the person with such noises, but instead, she found nothing. That was when the entrance cloth lifted up to reveal a man.

He was fairly tall, and draped in dark cloths, a kimono that was loose on his lean body. He wasn't perfectly shaven, and little specks of a beard were forming on his jaw. His pale blonde hair was falling into his face, a straw hat, and he held a sense of sarcasm and mockery with his light smile.

Ichigo dropped his arms back to his sides and scowled, "So you're finally home." It was more of a statement than question.

The strange man smiled widely, holding up a fan with his other hand, "Ara, ara~ Ichigo-san, so nice for you to visit me." He took the stairs one at a time before landing in front of the young man, grinning goofily all the while, "What brings you back to Mundo?"

Ichigo narrowed his eyes at the suspicious man, "Ya know why. I'm just here to crash for it a bit, fucker."

Orihime gasped at his foul language, "Kurosaki-san!" She reprimanded.

"Shut up," Ichigo drawled back lazily. Suddenly, she felt sharp eyes on her. Raising her head, she found that the man was watching her, his face clouding over with confusion as he leaned around Kurosaki-san before a delightful smile lit up his features.

With the cane, Orihime would've presumed something was wrong with the stranger's legs, but – of course – she was wrong. When he suddenly whirled from the ground, in the air for about a few feet before he landed in front of her, the dust flying under his feet powerfully, she reeled back, shocked.

"W-What!?" Ichigo whipped his head around before he realized the man was in front of the small, curvy redhead. Orihime cowered, trembling as the man leaned towards her, leering. Her eyes grew larger on her face as he touched her slim shoulder.

"And what's _your_ name?"

Orihime slowly got her body to work, "A-Ano…Orihime."

"Ah~" the stranger sung, "So beautiful! Orihime-chaaaan~" he grasped her hand with both of his and she gasped, blushing furiously at the unfamiliar touch. Suddenly, there was a loud thumping noise and the man released her, crying out, "Owieee…"

"Don't touch her, dammit," Ichigo groused and lowered his fist back to his side.

"A-Ah!" Orihime pouted unhappily up at Ichigo, "You didn't have to hit him, Kurosaki-san. H-He was just being friendly."

Ichigo's scowl deepened, "Yeah, sure, _friendly_."

"Bingo~!" the strange man held up his fan with a big smile, "You know I love stunning women."

Orihime flushed under her pale skin, lowering her eyes down to the ground, "T-Thank you."

"So bashful, too." The blonde male commented slyly.

"Are you listening to me?" Ichigo growled, "I need to stay here."

"Eh?" The man glanced at him from beneath his hat, "How long this time, Ichigo-san?" His smile was rather fond, and his eyes twinkled under his thick hair.

"Just for about two days. I stink and I'm fuckin' starvin'." Ichigo grunted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And you, Orihime-chan?" The curious teal eyes glanced over at her.

Orihime bit her bottom lip before she bowed politely to him, "I-I would like to stay also, if only for a bit!" She squeaked.

Both pairs of eyes blinked at her.

Silence.

"So sweet~!" The man meant to jump onto her, but Ichigo took a hold of his kimono, growling at the man.

"Not on your damn life, getaboshi."

"Well!" The man suddenly perked up as Orihime rose from her bow, "It'll come for a price, as usual, Ichigo-san."

Orihime set her face determinedly, clasping her hands in front of her, "I'll do my best."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed, "Whatever."

**…**

**…**

Orihime slowly began to eat her food, allowing her stomach to become used to the feeling. She hadn't eaten for a full two days and she had sworn she would faint if it weren't for Urahara-san. She jabbed her chopsticks into the freshly cooked fish and happily ate, grateful for the meal prepared in front of her.

"Is it good, Orihime-chan?" Kisuke sang from beside her. He and Orihime sat in front of the cooking area – a boiling pot, the fire, and wood. The rest of the room was consisted of one bed and a couple of trinkets. But from what she'd seen, there was a trap door located a few feet away from her seat. Kurosaki-san had gone below hours ago, and she felt the sharp pain of worry.

"H-Hai!" Orihime nodded stiffly, "Thank you for your hospitality. I will be sure to catch more fish for you again."

Urahara-san waved his fan at her, "Ohoo~ no need, Orihime-chan."

"But it is!" She insisted, "I intend to pay you back. Promise!"

He blinked, surprise, but did not say anything. As she dug back into her food, he watched her closely. The red hair, the honeyed gaze, the pink lips, and curvaceous figure.

"You remind me of someone."

Orihime jerked from her food, a speck of rice on the corner of her mouth, and her curious orbs met his, "Eh? Who?"

"The Inoue family has a record for raising beautiful women with this shade of hair," he lifted a lock of fine amber, "Peculiar, isn't it? Though, the Empress is more of a blonde, ne~?"

Orihime swallowed and nodded.

"It's strange. A baby by the name of Inoue Orihime was born many years ago, and I was the first soldier to see her to be revealed to the Emperor. It was quite a sight. You could already tell she would be very, very beautiful." He twirled the strand of hair lazily before dropping it, "Just as you, Orihime-chan."

Instantly, she felt the crisp air of the night. She locked eyes with him – though it was hard with his hat – and he smiled slyly. Placing down her bowl of dinner, she licked her dry lips, "U-Urahara-san—"

"It is just a mere coincidence, isn't it, Orihime-san?" His dark eyes pierced through hers and she resisted the urge to swallow or gag out the words of the truth. Slowly, she nodded with stiff shoulders and soft eyes. "Good. After all, I'm getting older now. I could just be continuing my insistent ramblings." His smile widened, "You never know."

"Hai…"

"Please continue to eat. I am sorry if I upset you."

Orihime – with trembling fingers – took a hold of her brown bowl and pulled it back to her chest. She swallowed the food, but did not taste it. If Kisuke could find out, then there was no doubt in the fact that she couldn't hide forever. Her stomach twisted. What would Kurosaki-san think of her? Would he change? Would he hate her for lying? Should she tell him?

Bowing her head, she tried to stop herself from biting through her bottom lip.

_Don't…_

"I'm finished,"

Orihime jumped in surprise as the trap door was thrown open and she heard the familiar footstep hit the upper ground. Quickly, her head snapped up, and her eyes widened, almost popping out of her head. Instantly, her throat and mouth was dry.

"K-K-Kurosaki-san…!"

His body was truly a temple, as her brother would read from sacred books. His physique was of a man's, sturdy, tall, and strong. She'd never seen a man shirtless before – except that one time she'd met Kurosaki-san – but this was completely, otherworldly different. The droplets of crystal water dripped from his orange, thick hair, down his intensely handsome face, to his strong jaw, over the thick cords of his neck, to his sculpted chest, and beautiful abdominals that were clenched tightly under healthy, bronze skin. His bottoms were the only thing protecting her purity, slung low on his hips, revealing his slick pelvic bones and more skin than Orihime was prepared for.

Her heartbeat went into a frenzy, and her face clearly showed it.

To her surprise and mortification, Ichigo grinned maliciously, predatorily at her expression, "What's wrong, kitten?" His eyes sparked with that violent residue of lust and she found herself wishing to see what he would do.

Urahara watched this all curiously.

"N-Nothing!" Orihime squeaked nervously. In five steps – taken with lazy grace and dark presence – he was in front of her, crouching down, and she tried to ignore the way his muscles flexed during each tread or action. Her cheeks darkened in color, and she could've sworn her face would explode any moment.

"Are you sure?" He tilted his head slightly to the side with that sly smirk. With lightning speed, his hand was on her cheek, and with his thumb, he brushed away the small grain of rice from the corner of her lips, but not before dragging his callous finger over the bottom one. "You're _really_ red."

"I-I just have to…_the little blue men are on the ceiling!_"

Urahara blinked.

Ichigo dropped his hand, already accustomed to _this_.

"I-I-I should g-go get them!" She hollered, flailing about now, "Please excuse me!" She scurried towards the trap door.

"Do you need help taking off your clothes?" Ichigo called over his shoulder casually. Orihime squealed with chagrin.

"No!" She cried before she slammed the door shut after her and he heard the slight fumbling before everything went silent.

"Ara, ara~ Ichigo-san, you shouldn't be such a lecher," Kisuke teased, waving his fan at the young man, "How could I have raised you so disgustingly?"

"Shut up, getaboshi!" Ichigo snapped as he made himself comfortable on the floor – on his side, legs spread out and one propped up, his elbow upheld so he could lean his head against it lazily. He closed his eyes, grunting vaguely, "You didn't fuckin' raise me."

Urahara lowered his head, staring at the dancing flames, "No. I suppose I did not."

_"Meow." _

Ichigo creaked open one eye to see the small, black feline. It enthusiastically hopped into Urahara's lap, and purred, settling, "That thing still comes around?"

"Yes~! It is very attached to me." He patted down the cat's sleek fur.

"How's Yoruichi-san?"

"She hasn't visited in a while. But I know she'll be back." Urahara had a strange expression on his face, but still continued to smile.

"Eep!"

Ichigo's head shot up and Kisuke glanced up curiously. Already, the black blade was in Ichigo's hands.

"Orihime! What's wrong?!" He shouted, sitting up at this moment.

Her hesitant, soft voice answered a second later, "N-Nothing. I almost slipped in, is all."

"Fuckin' klutz," Ichigo groused, a scowl sliding onto his face as he re-sheathed his sword.

"Ohooo~" Kisuke giggled.

Ichigo crooked a brow, lying back down, "What?"

"Oh, nothing~"

**…**

**…**

Orihime carefully slid into the steaming hot water and nearly moaned in relief when the liquid began to set in her weary muscles and bones. She forced her feet to hit the bottom of the tub, and – for once – was thankful for her breasts that kept her afloat. Her hair spread around her in fiery strands, moving freely in the water, and her limbs sunk deeper, thirsting for the liberation of relaxation.

For what seemed like a long time, she was peaceful.

In this place, a room like this, she could think, and listen to her actual thoughts without being disturbed for any amount of time. She wanted to scream, shout out her frustrations of her mother, father, Ulquiorra-sama, her responsibilities, the morning sun, the moon, every little men she'd ever dreamt of, and Kurosaki-san.

He made her thoroughly nervous. Sometimes, she was afraid to ask anything of him, afraid to feel that chocolate, scorching gaze that would make her mouth dry and unable to form words. There was that look in his eye that frightened her occasionally; but to be completely honest, this look, this eye contact that went between them, made her lose control over every moral and prayer and promises she'd ever made and vowed to.

He was a dangerous man to be around. He could kill her at any second, but he also did owe her his life. She'd saved him from being hung and nearly gotten killed herself. Ichigo might've been a thief, killer, and fibber, but he was not someone who broke his promises so easily. Even though they'd been traveling for about a week, she knew he would stay until everything was complete.

_Kurosaki-san leaving…_

Her eyes stung at the thought. She would miss his sharp curses, his beautiful sword, his tangerine hair, his sly smirks, the nickname he'd bestowed upon her, and most of all, the hard look in his brown eyes. He was a friend now, and though she did not have many friends, she knew, somewhere in her heart, that he belonged beside her, whether it be friendship or something else entirely. She did not know what she would do when he was gone, off in the world alone again, and she would be back in the palace, marrying Ulquiorra, mothering his children, and unable to open her mouth for opinions about her Kingdom.

Slowly, she sank deeper into the water, allowing it to drown out the world.

**…**

**…**

"Ah ha! Got you—E-Eh! Come back!"

Ichigo watched as the redhead lunged towards the fish, and it swam away swiftly. He was not surprised when her eyes filled with blue tears and stained her chibi'd face. Her bottom lip quivered cutely before she sucked it back up and made a determined expression.

"I will conquer this river and name it _Strawberrytopia_!" She threw her fist in the air.

Ichigo felt his eyebrow twitch, "Dammit! Quit making up names with mine!"

Orihime casted him a confused glance, "B-But your name means 'to protect'…"

"Don't fuck with me, kitten."

She ignored him, already searching for another fish. And Ichigo watched her silently. She was beautiful. Possibly the most beautiful woman he'd ever met, and he'd met a lot of woman in his life. But he'd never met someone like her. There was a sense of air around her, something he was almost anxious to touch.

Delicate and small, with the aura of innocence. Her wide hazel, honey eyes were like a doe's, large and new to the world, framed by thick, long lashes that swept her cheeks when she blinked curiously. She was tiny – not as tiny as _that_ _midget_ – only reaching a few inches to his chest, but she was curvy. The best curves he'd seen in a while. Heavy breasts, long, slender legs, and hips that were full enough to catch attention. Her hair was always out, long and falling down her back, to her small waist, and a fiery russet, thick and gorgeous, the thick bangs framing her face. Her hair color was interesting, but more tolerable than his.

She'd lifted up her kimono, revealing her perfect, slender legs.

Scowling, he also realized that she was annoying, ditzy, and too nice to hurt anyone, yet when he saw her saving his life, he apprehended the fact that she could lose the act at any time and become as cunning as a samurai.

For some odd reason, his mother's beaming face entered his mind, beautiful and brimming with maternal love.

His scowl deepened and he looked away from the shining, clear water.

_Fuckin' annoying. _

"Gotcha—Oh no! Wait! Ah!"

When Ichigo heard her startled squeal and loud splash, his eyes snapped open and his head whipped around. Just in time, he was able to see a whirl of amber hair as she vanished into the water.

"Shit!"

He was up the next second, and his feet sunk into the water. He hadn't noticed, but his heart rate had increased and his jaw was clenched tightly. Before he knew it, his hands dashed deep into the water and grasped her under the arms. With a quick jerk, he yanked her from the water and she flailed slightly before calming against him.

"Oi, kitten," he snarled against her wet hair, "Don't play around so dangerously."

She shuddered, but it was not from the cold, "H-Hai…"

When she shifted slightly against him, he nearly jumped out of his skin. A soft curse issued from his mouth.

_Not fuckin' good._

She was too close.

And her round bottom was pressed directly into his hips. The overwhelming heat scorched up his body before he could even make another sound or movement.

The next second, he released her and she shrieked in shock as she fell face-first back into the water. Ichigo nearly sighed in relief. She caught herself quickly, hands and knees, and the soaked, thick hair falling down her slender back. She settled into a sitting position, legs in a W-shape under her.

"Owie…Kurosaki-san~" She murmured, teary hazel eyes staring up at him.

"Don't blame me," his voice was deeper and lower, "You were the one drowning in three feet of water, boke."

She flushed at the statement, "I-I was just shocked, is all!"

"Whatever," he stepped from the water, and ignored the droplets dripping off his bottoms, "Catch fish yourself."

"Ah! Kurosaki-san!" She tried to follow, only to slip again.

_Fuckin' annoying woman._

**…**

**…**

"Orihime-chan~!" Kisuke sung softly when he saw her hurry towards his home, "What happened to you?"

Orihime blushed pink, "I-I fell into the river. Gomennasai. I ruined the clothes you gave me." The green kimono was drenched and sticking to her shapely form. Her hair wasn't any better, still sodden from earlier.

"Not to worry," Urahara-san waved his fan at her, "Your kimono is already cleaned and dry, ready for you to wear. I hung it up earlier than Ichigo-san's." He chuckled softly. "How was fishing?"

To his surprise, she held up a wooden bucket full of flopping fish with a bright beam – brighter than the sun – and said, "I caught a lot. Even though I fell sometimes."

"Oh~ this is great, Orihime-chan! We shall celebrate!"

Orihime's lips parted, "R-Really?"

"What's going on with you two?"

Orihime turned in time to see Kurosaki-san, eyebrow cocked, and the usual scowl on his handsome face. Orihime threw her arms in the air, "Banzai~! Kurosaki-san! We're going to celebrate tonight!"

Ichigo's scowl deepened, "…With fish?"

**…**

**…**

Ichigo stared at the bowls surrounding the room, and sighed heavily, placing down his own half-eaten rice. Urahara watched as he crossed the room, plopped down in the corner, on the cot, and leaned heavily against the wall.

Orihime also paused from her eating, biting her lip to suppress a yawn. Imagine how surprised the getaboshi was when she limply crawled towards the corner where Ichigo slept now, and curled up against his side, much like a cat.

Hours later, when it was dark, and no one was awake, Ichigo creaked open one eye and peered over at the redhead beside him. Knowing she was fast asleep, he did not hesitate to lift a strand of red to his face and stared down at it curiously, lazily as it slid through his two fingers and thumb.

When he glanced to his right, he saw her against his side, her head resting on his shoulder, hands loose in her lap, and her legs tucked underneath her.

He scowled, but did not push her away.

Besides, he liked the way she felt beside him.

**…**

**…**

"Since you're leaving so very soon, Ichigo-san, how about that pay?"

Ichigo's eyebrow twitched.

"Huh? Are you not happy? Did I not tell you when you asked to stay that you would have to pay me back, Ichigo-san?"

"Shut up, getaboshi. Just," he grimaced, "Get the rest of my things."

"Fine, fine." The older man turned in the other direction, lifted his door, and slid inside. Ichigo took that chance to take a few steps back, ready to follow through the plan he'd been doing since he was ten. Just as he was about to turn and sprint away, someone called out,

"Kurosaki-san?"

He jerked in surprise and glanced to his left to see the girl, amber eyes alit with innocent curiosity as she watched him. He jumped away from her, running a hand through his messy hair.

"Dammit. What're you doing here? Didn't I tell you to wait up the hill?" His tone was annoyed, but she did not care.

"Yes, but I wanted to thank Urahara-san one more time before leaving. After all, he is a very nice man for letting us stay here for such a little fee. Did you pay him already?" She smiled pleasantly at him, hands clasped in front of her.

Ichigo scowled. "Yeah, yeah," waving her off, he turned in the other direction.

"So you did? Where'd you get the money, Kurosaki-san?" She did not sound suspicious, but he knew she would continue asking until she got the full truth. With an irritated grunt, he placed a hand in front of her face, causing her to pause at arm's length. "Eh?"

"I don't wanna hear it," he quipped, "See ya." And with a grunt, he was off. Orihime's mouth fell open as he sprinted away. Of course, she followed, but was unable to catch up with him, many feet away.

"Kurosaki-saaaan!"

"Quit following me!"

"But, Kurosaki-san, where are you going?"

When they finally came to a stop many yards away, Ichigo panted, bracing himself on his knees, "Damn. Now he's gonna—" The air changed for a second and Orihime gasped as _something_ hit the trunk of the tree – which was beside the two – and the crimson leaked down.

As the liquid continued to pour – Orihime watching inquiringly, Ichigo sweat-dropped – the words formed and were soon able to read.

_'Ichigo-san, cometh immediately to the front of Urahara's home.' _

"Gah!" Ichigo exclaimed, "W-What the hell is that bastard doing?! Who contacts people that way?! This looks like some kind of dying message in the person's own blood!"

Orihime tilted her head to the side slightly, "Eh? P. S.?"

_'P. S. Whoever thinks this is some kind of legend from frightening stories that is like some kind of dying message in the person's own blood…has no talent for comedy.'_

Ichigo threw a hard rock at the tree, "Shut the hell up!"

"Wait," Orihime blinked in confusion, and to his surprise, she turned to him with a hard expression on her pretty face, "Kurosaki-san, did you leave Urahara-san's without paying?"

He blinked.

Without hesitation, she took a hold of his thick wrist with her small hand. Ichigo jerked in surprise as she dragged him along with surprising strength. "Hey, you don't have to pull me along."

"Yes, I do," she insisted softly.

"Can't you just fuckin' trust me?"

"I do," she murmured, "But Kurosaki-san can be a liar sometimes."

He heaved a heavy sigh as they arrived at the getaboshi's home, and the man stood in front of the hut, smiling widely and waving his fan about. Orihime dropped Ichigo's wrist and stood beside him. "Gomen ne, Urahara-san. I brought Kurosaki-san back."

Kisuke blinked and then chortled at the two. Ichigo turned his face away and glowered at nothing in particular as Orihime blinked. "Isn't this something?" Kisuke teased, continuing to grin widely, "Ichigo-san brought back by a girl." He turned to the flushing Orihime, who bit her lip nervously, "I am used to this, Orihime-chan. Ichigo-san is always running away when it is time for confrontation, unless," he tapped his chin thoughtfully, "it is a fight."

If Orihime had blinked, she would've missed it. There was a blur of black and Ichigo was suddenly in front of Urahara his sword drawn and a feral grin on his face, "Is that what you want, getaboshi? A fight? 'Cause I'll be happy to give you one!" Before Orihime could gasp in shock, Ichigo had already slashed his sword through the air. And when her eyes widened, Kisuke was already a couple feet back. She watched in complete awe as the elder's hat fell to the ground, against his left foot while Ichigo's grin widened.

"Ara, ara…" Urahara bent down to grab up his hat, a large slice in the side, "Now my hat's ruined…"

"Kurosaki-san!" Orihime cried anxiously. She returned her attention to Urahara, who was dusting the dirt from his hat, "Are you alright, Urahara-san?"

"Such a frightening child," Kisuke mused with an easy smile, "I'm quite alright, Orihime-chan."

"Kurosaki-san," Orihime reprimanded sharply, "Now, you really have to pay him back. You could've seriously hurt him!"

"What!" Ichigo exclaimed, throwing her a glare over his shoulder, as he re-sheathed his sword.

"No need, Orihime-chan," Kisuke put in, "After all, I treat Ichigo-san as my own."

Orihime's eyebrows crinkled worriedly, "Are you sure? I'll work an extra day if that will help." Urahara was slightly surprised that she was not fazed by Ichigo's violence, and that, instead, she scolded him with forgiving eyes. Truly something else.

He waved his fan at her, "It's fine."

When they finally walked away together – beautiful Orihime draped in a pink kimono, Ichigo draped in dark black – Urahara Kisuke watched severely. She was behind him, hands clamped behind her back, the hair lifting to play in the wind. She followed Ichigo, and was quiet in doing so, almost content.

Ichigo did _not_ seem to mind.

"Hm…"

The small, black cat curled around Urahara's feet.

"Weird, isn't it?"

_"Meow." _

"Yes. I don't think I've ever seen Ichigo-san like this either."

**…**

**…**

**Yay! Finished yet another chapter! Now, we can continue on our journey. In this story, Kisuke will be popping up randomly, and you will soon realize he's also important in the story, since there is no story without Urahara. That's like Bleach without any Orihime. It's pointless and boring. **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I just love the interaction between Orihime and Ichigo, even though Ichigo doesn't like her very much, or doesn't want to admit to it. In the next chapter, you'll see how far Ichigo will exactly go to protect her. **

**Please review. It makes me happier than happy.**

**-Star**


	6. Chapter 6

**…**

**…**

"Oi, Kitten! Hurry the hell up!"

Orihime stumbled over a small fissure in the ground, but righted herself with a small, 'eep!'. Ichigo continued on his way, for he hadn't heard her body fall. As she made it finally to the top with him, she dusted off the front of pink kimono, wrinkling her small nose in distaste as her feet ached.

"Kurosaki-saaan…" She complained, "My feet hurt."

"Suck it up," he snapped over his shoulder. Orihime shrank away, but a pout stayed on plush lips. Wringing her hands into her kimono, she tried to hold her tongue from snapping back at him. Truly, she'd changed this past week, she was cranky, hungry, and exhausted. They'd been traveling alone for three days now, and had finished the extra fish and water Urahara had stored for them. Well, _she_ had. Kurosaki-san had grumbled about it the next morning when she finished all the fish. A blush flooded through her cheeks when she thought of _that_.

She really was _greedy_.

Maybe he was angry about that. Kurosaki-san – for the last few days – seemed very frustrated, more than normal. He wouldn't frequently snap at her all the time, and when she fell, he would help her up. He seemed distant now, and didn't even offer his typical, lewd small talk. She glanced down at the ground, a wrinkle merging between her brows as she tried to think of anything else she did that might've troubled him. As she flickered through it, she'd failed to notice that they'd come across a bridge, and it was more than occupied at the moment.

"Give up, girl! Give us the money!"

Orihime's head snapped up and she was shocked to see a group of men – five – crowding around a small girl. She cowered, her hands clutching a small sack that Orihime presumed held her coins. Orihime's eyes widened, and she paused behind Kurosaki-san. She expected him to do the same, at least give them a moment, but no, not Kurosaki-san. Instead, he shoved his way through two, and continued on his leisure pace.

Orihime sweat-dropped, giggling nervously as the yakuza stared at him in astonishment and anger, weapons in their hands and tight fists issuing through the group. Orihime felt a tall-tale sign of _this isn't going to go well._ The girl was also staring at Ichigo in surprise, eyes widening as Ichigo stopped at the end of the short bridge, two men blocking his path.

"Move," Ichigo grunted, "You're in the way."

"How dare you!" One shouted from behind him, closer to Orihime, "You should have more respect!"

"Yeah! You should be bowing at us, fucker!"

A slice of metal wafted through the air.

"Or are we going to have to teach you?"

"A-Ano…" Orihime waited until at least three peered at her, "I wouldn't mess with Kurosaki-san. He's in a very bad mood today…"

"Bad mood, huh?" Another hissed, withdrawing his small dagger, "I'll show you bad mood!"

And with that, they all lunged towards the orange-haired.

Orihime merely sighed.

…

…

Moments later, the group was in the shallow river. Orihime peered down at them, her full bottom in the air as she watched. They twitched and groaned, bleeding in various places, black eyes, broken bones, and lying on top of each other.

Ichigo scowled deeply and then continued on his way. Orihime stood straight and watched him go, confusion and worry etched on her pretty face, "He…he didn't kill them." That was peculiar. Usually, Orihime would have to beg Ichigo to stop, to not take anyone's life. Pressing her lips together, she tried not to call out to him again.

"S-Sumimasen…" Orihime turned her head and was surprised to see the little girl still there, wide indigo eyes staring up into Orihime's. "Thank you, for s-saving me."

Orihime smiled softly and bowed, "You're welcome. But it wasn't me. You should probably go home before they come to," Which Orihime seriously doubted would happen, "Bye-bye."

She turned away, only for a small hand to clamp onto her wrist, "No! W-Wait!" The young girl cried, "Sumimasen! My name is Tsumugiya Ururu, and I want to thank you properly for saving me."

Orihime blinked, tilting her head curiously, "You don't have to do that, Ururu-chan."

"No, no!" She held an odd air of determination around her now, "I have to! A-After all, you don't seem so bad, and without you, I-I wouldn't have made it home tonight." A blush erupted around her cheeks. Without warning, a fist was brought down hard on the little girl's head. Ururu grunted in pain as a huge bump made itself known on her small head. Orihime's mouth fell open.

"K-Kurosaki-san!" Orihime cried, instantly bringing her arms around the girl, "What're you doing?"

"Ururu should know better," he groused, his eyes tight.

Ururu hesitantly opened her blue eyes, "G-Gomennasai, Ichigo-sama…"

Ichigo snorted vaguely at the honorific while Orihime darted her eyes between them, mystified. "W-Wait. You know her?"

"Of course I do. Her and her little brat of a—"

"HEY!"

Orihime was shocked when a small body launched from the ground beside Kurosaki-san, twirled in mid-air, and his foot met Ichigo's side. Orihime watched in awe as Ichigo shouted in surprise and fell to the ground. Orihime's mouth fell open before she rushed to Ichigo's side.

"K-Kurosaki-san!" She fell down to her knees beside him, but he seemed perfectly fine. A dark aura was beginning to rise from the orange-haired, but Orihime was oblivious as she peered over at the attacker.

The boy who'd kicked her comrade was short, and just a small child, just as the girl. His hair was spiked and an odd crimson color that somehow went well with his tanned skin and wide, frustrated eyes. Suddenly, he lifted his fist and slammed it down on Ururu's head.

_Again?_

"What the heck is your problem?!" He hollered. "I told you not to leave the village!"

Ururu's eyes stung harshly, "Gomennasai…"

"Um—" Orihime started, and then shrieked in surprise when the small redhead swung a kanabo at her, hollering all the while, "A-Ah!"

"Stay back!" The tiny boy yelled at her, glaring viciously. When the weapon got too close to Orihime, a strong hand shot out and grabbed a hold on it. Orihime blinked and peeked over her shoulder to see Ichigo gripping the weapon and glaring at the young boy.

"Stop it, dammit." He stood and snatched the weapon from him, "You're scaring her." Indeed, Orihime's eyes were wide and her heart rate had gone up a notch. Turning back towards Orihime, he took her wrist in his large hand and lifted her up quickly and smoothly. Orihime squeaked and stumbled right into Ichigo's hard chest. While she flushed delicately, Ichigo did not seem to mind as he glowered down at the small children. "What the fuck are you two doing? The Calvary is all around these damn parts. You can easily get captured."

Orihime blinked.

_I-Is…Kurosaki-san being _nice_ to these children?_

Orihime couldn't help but allow the surprise to flutter in her heart before she muffled it down, hoping for Ichigo to not see. Luckily, he was still grousing at the young villagers, and when he grasped the redheaded one up by his kimono, Orihime shot up, sputtering out his name.

"Kurosaki-san!" She exclaimed, already defensive of the boy, who was wiggling and cursing rather offensively at her comrade. Ichigo glared at the male in his grip and then glanced down at the girl. She stared up big, big blue eyes at him, but did not say anything.

"And you?" Ichigo grimaced.

Ururu dug her tiny foot into the ground, "I'm very sorry, Ichigo-sama. Tessai is feeling a bit under the weather and I wanted to find some herbs for him."

The redhead crossed his arms, "I told her not to go."

"J-Jinta…I can…," the black-haired swallowed thickly, "I can do things by myself."

"Obviously not," Ichigo and Jinta commented together.

Orihime decided it was best to stay quiet, for again, she had no idea what was happening.

**…**

**…**

The cloth door lifted. Ichigo first, Jinta-kun, Ururu-chan, and then Orihime took that chance to step inside. Her eyes instantly widened. From living in a palace her whole life, and staying with Urahara-san, she'd become used to nice rooms and fine huts. But this home was very small, and the smell wasn't any better. The house was only one room and she wasn't sure where to exactly start cleaning. But when she spotted a man lying down in the center of the hut, under thin blankets, she tilted her head curiously.

"Tessai," Ichigo called shortly. He stopped by the futon, crooking both brows up at the obviously sick man. "What got into ya?"

The older man laughed, "Huh. Ichigo-dono. You're back." The man sounded genuinely happy. Slowly, he moved his head, and was quite surprised to see a young woman staring at them curiously, wide honeyed eyes blinking. Ichigo followed his gaze.

"Her name's Orihime. She's annoying, but I owe her. She's been traveling with me for a while now." He explained briefly.

Orihime smiled softly, bowing respectively, "Konnichiwa."

Tessai grinned, though it was weak, "Hello."

Ichigo grunted vaguely and rolled his brown eyes, "Both of you are too polite for your own good." Slowly, he crouched down and slowly slid to the ground, crossing his legs casually.

In response, Orihime hurried next to Ichigo, and slowly slid down right after him, tucking her legs underneath her. Tessai watched this all with wide eyes. Ichigo-dono, it seemed, was highly aware of her presence, and Orihime wasn't any better, keeping herself close to him. They complimented each other, well, to Tessai. He was sure the children – Jinta and Ururu – were also very surprised.

"I told ya guys to take better care of yourselves." Ichigo glared down at Tessai before he slightly calmed down, "And to stay with Urahara."

"Children are not to stay unsupervised, and you know Urahara-san isn't very good with watching after someone's well-being. I took the children with me so we could find a better environment to be in. I did not know the Calvary was close so close to Mundo. It makes everything very hard."

Ichigo's eyes tightened, "Killing or arresting?"

Jinta crossed his thin arms over his chest, "Both. You should've seen them yesterday," he made a slicing motion through his throat, "Dead bodies everywhere."

Orihime gasped sharply.

Ururu nodded in agreement, her large eyes tearing up, "Yes. I buried at least three men. I could barely get out of the hut this morning with m-my aching bones."

Sighing, Jinta dropped his arms limply to his sides, "It's getting worse."

"This…This is _terrible_," Orihime whispered to herself. Her mother and father were doing a terrible job running the Kingdom. People were dying _every day_? Being _killed_? Orihime, being locked in a tower all her life, hadn't heard any of this. Vaguely, she could feel her lips tremble.

Ichigo casted the young woman a lazy glance, "Be quiet. These kinda things happen all the time. You shouldn't be so sensitive."

Orihime locked eyes with him, and he was slightly surprised to see the wet gaze and determined set of her face, "That does not make it right, Kurosaki-san."

He stared at her for a few seconds, his eyes flashing darkly before he turned his face away, "There's nothing we can do about it, boke. After all," a small, leering smirk lit up his face briefly, "You're way too tiny to even be heard."

A wrinkle developed between her slender eyebrows, "Eh? I am not, Kurosaki-san!" She protested, "I-I can…" She seemed flustered. Squeezing her eyes shut, she flushed a deep pink, clenching her tiny fists together under her chin, "I…I can—"

Suddenly, a hand came down on top of her head. She gasped, and her eyes fluttered open, revealing an wide, amber gaze. She glanced up at the palm on top of her head and then at Ichigo, who was staring down at her with a _weird_ smile, and soft, yet hard eyes. She'd never seen this look before, he'd never touched her so willingly before either. He rubbed on the top of her head, as if trying to comfort her, soothingly, yet a bit too rough. He'd probably never done it before. Orihime's heart stopped and then picked up in speed, her eyes growing impossibly larger on her pretty face. Releasing her, Ichigo stood lithely, and passed by Ururu and Jinta without further argument or words. The door flaps were lifted and then fell back in their rightful place.

There was a stiff silence as everyone stared when Ichigo had gone.

"A-Ano…" Ururu appeared nervous.

"Huh." Jinta smirked a bit, "Ichigo-sama seems to be in a good mood."

Yet, Orihime sat in her spot, her eyes staring after the man.

"Ne," She whispered, "Why is Kurosaki-san so tense?"

**…**

**…**

"O-Orihime-san," said woman turned her head to see the young girl holding the fresh bucket of water, the cloth hanging on the side. With a gentle smile, Orihime placed down the old broom, and turned around to take the bucket away from the girl.

"Thank you, Ururu-chan," Orihime murmured, "You should take a break."

Ururu casted her a wary gaze, "Are you sure it's alright? I-I can help a bit more."

Orihime's smile widened, "It's really alright. You have done enough today, already."

Ururu blushed under her pale skin, "I-I suppose."

"Go have fun with Jinta-kun. He's been outside for a while now," Orihime suggested kindly. With a sharp nod of her head, she rushed out of the cloth-door and she could hear Jinta cursing up a storm, wishing to get away from her.

"You…You are very kind, Orihime-dono," Tessai muttered weakly from behind her. Orihime turned, her arms straining to hold the bucket of heavy water. Tessai was sitting up now, and the hut was lit from the fire in the center of the room. The home was much cleaner now, Orihime had made sure of it. Quickly, Orihime dropped to her knees in front of the older man, and beamed brightly at him.

"I try my best, Tessai-san." Slowly, her smile fell and she watched her hands ring the rag of any excess water, "But it seems it is not enough. After all, I do not have enough money to buy the medicine you need. I am very sorry."

Tessai chuckled, throaty and deep, "No need to apologize, Orihime-dono. I bestowed this sickness upon myself by working so hard in the fields. It is not your fault. If I were to die, the only worry I would have is the children. They are defenseless, and no one will hire nine-year-olds. And I doubt they could travel all the way to Kisuke's home alone."

"Don't speak that way," Orihime chided softly, "I'll get the medicine somehow." She placed the cool cloth on his heated forehead and then set her hands determinedly in front of her, "I promise."

In response, Tessai smiled gently.

When she was done with tending to him, feeding him her share of little food, and cleaning the home, Orihime stepped outside. Jinta and Ururu were playing around in the small fields, and the sun was setting now. She hadn't seen Kurosaki-san since earlier, and her stomach had the familiar, cold sensation of worry. When a powerful wind shook through the earth and trees, Orihime's hair flew up, blocking her eyesight and flowing around her shoulders. She quickly pushed back her free bangs and averted her eyes upwards.

Her large eyes grew larger.

"Kurosaki-san!"

Ichigo did not reply, instead turned his head briefly to her.

Orihime started at his hard brown eyes, and rung her hands in front of her nervously. Currently, Ichigo was sitting under a large tree that shadowed him from the sinking, orange sun. His sitting position was lazy; one leg bent at the knee, the other stretched out, and hands in the back of his head.

Instead of sitting next to him – as she desperately wished to do – Orihime walked to the opposite side of the tree trunk, her on the left and Ichigo on the right. He was quiet as she settled into a comfortable position, her legs tucked in front of her, and her arms around her knees as she leaned against the bark heavily. When he did not say anything for a few moments, Orihime decided to.

"Ne, Kurosaki-san…"

"If you're gonna ask a stupid question, I'm not answering it."

Orihime blinked owlishly, "Well…" She trailed off, lowering her eyes, as the corners of her mouth turned down, "it may seem stupid." It was quiet.

After a few moments, Ichigo muttered, "…What is it?"

She jerked in surprise, "Um, I was wondering…eto—"

"Spit it out already, Kitten."

"I-I was wondering if you were…" She gulped, "_mad at me_." She whispered the words so softly, she thought Ichigo wouldn't hurt her.

It was another break of silence before Ichigo spoke again. He tone was low, yet soft, "Idiot. Why would I be mad at you?"

Relief flooded through her chest and choked her throat. Swallowing once again, she lifted a hand to push it against her smooth forehead, digging in the heel of her palm with a soft smile, "I…You seem very troubled over something, Kurosaki-san. And I thought maybe it was something I had done."

"_Orihime_,"

The girl jolted at her name. He'd _never_ said her name before. Only once when they had met. And the sound coming from his mouth had her whole body hyperaware, tingling with something she'd never felt before. Pressing a hand against her raging heart, she breathed out raggedly.

"Y…Yes?" She stammered nervously. She could not see Ichigo, but she could practically feel his heat through the thick tree.

"You talk about revenge like it's an easy subject. Revenge is what you want when someone betrayed you, isn't it? Yet you don't seem angry, you don't seem hurt at all. Every time I ask about the guy we're searching for, you smile and tell me it's a secret." He surmised, and his voice had taken a dark quality. "We've been traveling for a while. So tell me." It was more of an order than a hopeful wish.

A small smile cascaded over Orihime's lips, "This is a surprise, Kurosaki-san. Usually, you only say things to me in three or four sentences, ne?"

Ichigo did not reply, his eyes narrowed.

"Please do not be angry with me, Kurosaki-san. There are many things you do not know about, but I wish to tell you. You see, my older brother was murdered a very long time ago. Before he died, he asked me to do something for him." She reached up a hand to grasp the hibiscus jewels, "And I promised I would find this certain person for him. No matter how long it took." Her smile turned sad, her voice lowering, "Revenge isn't really want I am after. He took something very important to me…"

Ichigo did not say anything for quite some while. When he did, she didn't expect to hear the humor in his voice, "Tch. That was such a stupid ass reason, boke."

Orihime bit into her bottom lip and glanced towards the ground, "I suppose you are right."

"Don't get on etiquette on me again. You know I hate when you talk weird." He heaved a heavy sigh.

She laughed nervously, softly, "G-Gomennasai." Again, she paused, pressing her knees even tighter against her chest, "Kurosaki-san, why did you agree to come with me?"

"Because you saved my damn life," he replied and she could imagine him rolling his chocolate eyes.

Her eyelashes lowered, "But, Kurosaki-san, aren't you searching for someone too?"

He did not say anything for a few seconds, before murmuring, "No." He paused, and then allowed, "Not anymore."

In reply, Orihime curled herself up even tighter, "You don't have to tell me now, Kurosaki-san. I don't mind."

"…You never do." When it was quiet again, Orihime heard his light, sly footsteps. When she glanced around, she was surprised to see him standing. Without a backward glance, he was walking away. She stood instantly.

"Kurosaki-san—"

"Don't follow me," his tone was dark, and she blinked, "Go inside and go to sleep." And then he was gone, walking further and _further_ away from her.

**…**

**…**

The sun had set.

It was dark now.

His feet were actually starting to hurt from walking so long. It had at least been four hours. Walking back towards Tessai's house, he decided it was best to be as quiet as he could be. After all, everyone would be asleep and he didn't need Ururu having a panic attack over his wellbeing.

He was passing the tree when he saw a flash of amber hair. He slightly jerked, his eyes widening when he saw her still there.

Quietly, he walked around the tree. She was leaned against the trunk, her arms around her knees, which were pushed against her chest. Her hair fell around her like a silky red-gold halo, and her face was peaceful, soft. When Ichigo came to stand in front of her, her weary, large eyes slowly fluttered and opened.

"K…Kurosaki-san…?" She asked softly, rubbing a small fist against one eye.

"What're you doing?" He nearly snapped at her, "It's freezing out here."

She smiled softly at his tone and lowered her hand, "You were gone for a very long time, Kurosaki-san. Gomen ne~ I guess I fell asleep while I was waiting for you."

His eyes slowly softened.

_Waiting for you._

Suddenly, his mouth was dry, and _something_ in his stomach turned over, sliding across _something_ in his chest. Clenching his teeth, he tried to stop himself from saying something stupid to her as she stared up at him with those large, hazel eyes. He took a deep breath and then sighed heavily, feeling his head throb from the unfamiliar sensations pulsing through him.

_She was just a girl._

He licked his dry lips, and locked his gaze with hers.

_She _had_ to be _just_ a girl._

"Kurosaki-san?" She was oblivious to his inner struggle. With another sigh, Ichigo leaned down and gripped her wrist. Orihime squeaked at the sudden movement, but stumbled to her feet, nearly toppling over when she tried to stand. Luckily, Ichigo kept a firm grip on her wrist and opposite shoulder, keeping his body close to hers. She blinked again in surprise when he positioned himself in front of her, slightly crouched.

"Um…?"

"Get on."

"EH?" Orihime flushed a deep, pretty pink, "B-But—"

"You're tired and I'm gonna carry you back. If you walk, you'll just end up hurtin' yourself."

"Yes, but…" She shifted on her exhausted feet edgily, "I…I'm _heavy_."

He snorted, "I'm sure you're not as heavy as most things I've carried." She hesitated once again before he quickly muttered over his shoulder, "_Orihime_." When she heard her name, her arms were practically thrown over his shoulders and neck, holding on for dear life. Easily, Ichigo bent down a bit more and hooked his arms under her knees. Orihime gasped at the feeling of his calloused hand on her skin and squirmed as Ichigo's hands cupped firmly.

"You okay?" He asked carefully, trying to keep the huskiness out of his voice. She was soft, unbelievably soft in fact.

"Y-Yes!" She chirped nervously, tightening her slim arms around his shoulders, "Ano…I'm not too heavy, am I?" She questioned softly.

Her scent was sweet, he began to realize, and her body was soft against his hard planes.

"Go to sleep," he snapped at her. She giggled in response, but placed her head carefully on his strong shoulder. Almost instantly, she was asleep, her face peaceful once more in his Hell of a world. "Dammit," he sighed as he began to tread back towards the hut.

_I'm fucked, he_ told himself inwardly when he felt her shift against him subtly.

**…**

**…**

**I know I promised Ichigo would be protective of Orihime in this, but now, I've decided to postpone it until next chapter. I know, big middle finger in the face, but at least I had the Ichihime in this, and a little more to Ichigo's personality. He's still in the dark. Sorry this is so late. I promised out by Tuesday or Monday, but I got sidetracked since I'm in journalism and drama and the yearbook. I've been so busy this year. I'll make sure to do better since so many people like this story. **

**In the next chapter, Ichigo and Orihime will go through another action/adventure _thingy_. Sometimes I wonder how exactly they pull through. We might meet Uryu again, or Sado, or Rukia and Renji, and I'm definitely considering Grimmjow and Shinji, since they're so great. Sorry, again, that this took so long. Thanks for the support though. **

**Please review. It'll make my day.**

**-Star**


	7. Chapter 7

**…**

**…**

_Light…?_

Orihime nearly groaned as the light shined through her weary, dreamless world. Her heart was soft in her chest, beating slowly within her body. Her small hands cupped under her body and her heavy hair spilled over her shoulders and thickly down her back.

_It smells good…_

Instinctively, she pushed her nose closer to the scent, growing confused when she felt the _thing_ move underneath her. When her eyelids fluttered open, she was surprised to see black, and for a moment, she thought she were blind, that the little blue men had finally stolen her sight for not retrieving and conquering over Strawberrytopia. Slowly, she placed her hands on the wall-like-moving-thingy and pushed back, eyes blinking when her sight returned to her.

"Ah…" She murmured, "That's better." She was in the hut and the sun was sinking through the tiny, two windows. She could vaguely remember the other night; speaking with Kurosaki-san, watching him leave, waiting for him, and then—

"Stop movin' around, would ya?" Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around her shoulders. Orihime squeaked in surprise as she was tipped over and fell directly into Kurosaki-san's lap. Eyes widening, mouth parted, and she tried to stop the overwhelming blush from taking over her cheeks. She did not move as his heavy eyelids opened and accessed her, "You're annoyin'."

Orihime tried to push herself back, "S-Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb your sleep, Kurosaki-san."

"I was already awake," he sighed, running a hand in his thick, messy spikes, "I should've known you would move a lot when you sleep."

The blush came even harder now, "Sumimasen." Before, she hadn't realized how close she was to him. They were face-to-face by time she sat up, and his eyes locked with hers. His lazy gaze gave her a _weird_ sensation in her belly, and her bare toes curled. When she gained the right state of mind, she pushed herself backwards, and nearly toppled over.

"Sorry,"

Ichigo stared at her for a second, before he cleared his throat and glanced at the wall, "Whatever."

The tension hung in the air, unknown and she did not wish to question it. She would rather leave this tender problem between them alone. Swallowing delicately, Orihime turned to the left, and was not surprised to see a sleeping Tessai, his eyes closed, and he breathed in deeply. He was sleeping rather peacefully, but sweat lined his forehead and exposed skin, and when she touched his forehead, she nearly flinched.

"How's he?" Ichigo asked nonchalantly, but she could hear something under his tone.

"Not well," Orihime murmured, already placing a fresh rag on his scorching forehead. Her heart plundered as she watched the elder man pant and gasp. Balling her hands into tight fists, she tried to stop the anxiety from pooling in her chest, "If we had the medicine—"

"Orihime-san! Ichigo-sama!"

Both bright heads shot up, and Orihime was quite surprised to see Ururu scurry into the small home, her eyes wide and fearful, her skin as pale as milk, and her knees shaking before she finally collapsed.

"Oi!" Ichigo hollered, frowning deeply.

Orihime quickly rushed to the girl's side, "Ururu-chan!"

The black-haired girl shook her head vehemently, pushing away her attention, "N-No…Jinta…Calvary…he stole…!"

Orihime's eyes widened as she registered the stammering pants. "J-Jinta-kun _stole_ the medicine?"

Ichigo turned his face away, "Tch." And then he stood, grabbing up his sword. Orihime watched as Ururu's tears fell and she cupped her tiny hands over her eyes.

"W-Wait! Kurosaki-san! What're you planning to do?" Orihime cried, already rushing after him. He stalked outside, his eyes tight. Orihime was not far behind. "Kurosaki-san!"

**…**

**…**

The town was bustling.

Orihime gasped sharply, whirling around, searching.

She had lost Kurosaki-san, he'd vanished into the crowd as soon as she glanced away, if only for a second. Usually, she'd be able to find him instantly with his pretty hair, tall, tall body, and loud curses, but he was nowhere in sight. Growing concerned with the turn of events, Orihime spun around, trying to get through people, trying to find her companion.

"Kurosaki-san!"

Nothing.

"Kurosaki-san!"

No reply.

And then finally, "Oi! Woman!"

But it wasn't the exact voice she was looking for. Instead, a small body knocked into her thighs and hips. Orihime nearly fell, and if it weren't for the tiny size, she would've. Hands bunched into her pink kimono and yanked her. She glanced down in puzzlement and was thoroughly surprised when she saw the flaming red hair and tan, healthy skin.

"Jinta-kun!" Orihime rejoiced, stooping down to her knees, arms open in invitation. She was so glad he wasn't injured. Rather than receiving the hug like a good young boy, he brought his fist down right on her head. Orihime blinked, and frowned, as Jinta's eyes stung with tears.

"Ow…the hell…? Her head!" Jinta whimpered, caressing his tender fist/

"Are you alright?" Orihime asked softly, reaching a hand towards him.

Beating away her affection, he hollered, "Yes! Now, look, put this in your boobs!"

Again, Orihime blinked. "My…?"

"Your boobs, lady!" He held out his hand and revealed the slim bottle of medicine. It was crystal clear, but she could see the medical herbs at the bottom. Obviously, very rare.

"J-Jinta-kun…" Orihime murmured, her eyebrows merging, "What did you do?"

"Tessai needs it, doesn't he?" The young boy drawled, obviously pleased with himself, oblivious to her inner turmoil, "We just give it to him and wait for the rest, right, right?" He appeared so hopeful, so happy for the outcome that Orihime could not bear to crush his dreams. Tessai must've been an important caretaker to them, even a father figure.

_How could I let my country get this out of control? _

"O-Oi! Are you cryin'?" Jinta groused, watching as her eyes filled, shaking and so very large, "Look, you don't have to put it in your boobs, lady, just—"

"Halt! You there!"

Orihime eyes grew larger on her pretty face. Almost instantly, her arms wrapped around the child, and she attempted to block anything from his small body. The guards, or the Calvary, surrounded them, some carrying thin guns and thick armor. Orihime held Jinta-kun tightly, even though he wrestled with her.

"We do not accept thieves in this town," one said, his tone low as he gazed down at the two with cold eyes.

"I'm not a thief!" Jinta bristled, flailing his arms around mightily.

_You are._

Though, Orihime tried to settle the redhead down, "Please, Jinta-kun, if you just return the—"

"No! No way!" Jinta snarled angrily, "Tessai _needs_ this! There is no way I'm giving up his only way to get better, dumb girl!"

"But, Jinta-kun—"

"Return the medicinal herbs now!" A soldier shouted, already reaching for his sword. Orihime could feel her heart rate quicken.

"He's just a child," Orihime defended, clutching the furious villager even closer, "Please."

"We've killed kids much younger than him," Another said sharply. Orihime's eyes widened even more at this, but she did not have enough time to think as one suddenly took a fistful of Jinta's red hair and yanked him away from her.

"H-Hey! Let go!" Jinta howled, flailing in the man's grip. The other villagers did not look their way, did not want to be involved with such a nuisance. Orihime felt her heart twist up, until it gave tears of its own.

"Jinta-kun!" Orihime cried, attempting to stumble to her feet, only to almost face plant. Catching herself on her hands, her wrists ached and her eyes met Jinta's, if only for a second before she could hear the slice of metal emit into the air. Squeezing her eyes shut, she only got the glimpse of the sword heading towards her.

_Where are you?_

_Where are you?_

_Where are _you_?_

She parted her trembling lips, "Kurosaki-san…!"

Everything _stopped_.

There was the sharp clang of metal meeting metal fiercely. She heard the surprised gasps and Jinta paused from his yelling.

Orihime's heart was already soaring.

First, she saw black, and then orange, and finally the black, beautiful sword that extracted out to clash expertly with the soldier's. Orihime blinked, her eyelashes wet, before a smile began to curve her plush lips.

_Kurosaki-san!_

"Dammit," Ichigo grounded out from clenched teeth, "Bastard…!" He shoved forward with heavy strength and the guard hollered in shock, teetering backwards. Ichigo stood tall, his eyes narrowed dangerously, "What the fuck do ya think ya doin'?" He drawled agitatedly down at the fallen man.

A strange feeling filled her belly as she stared up at Ichigo in surprise – maybe _awe_? Again, he'd come in her time of need and saved her silly being from murder. She started towards him, her hand reaching for him. Unfortunately, it was too late.

Ichigo whirled around when Orihime cried out stridently.

She heard her name escape from his lips, and it wasn't sarcastic, or lewd, or upset like it usually was uttered from his lips. Her name was spoken low and fierce from his mouth, and pledged to do something she did not want to think about.

_Protect her._

Her right arm was yanked behind her back at an uncomfortable, painful angle, and she was forced to the ground, her bottom suspended in the air, hair falling over her back like a sleek, red-gold waterfall.

"Oi! Get off her!" Jinta was hollering, wrestling roughly with his own restraints, "Dammit!"

Orihime nearly squealed when she felt her other arm jerked backwards, and cool metal touched her wrists. Handcuffs wrapped around her wrists like a second skin. She was forced to her knees roughly by a soldier and she wiggled. She managed a few kicks to the guard's shins, but he kept his precious "jewels" – as Kurosaki-san would say – out of her reach.

"Let Jinta-kun go!" She said, attempting to pry herself from the unfamiliar hands on her waist. Though, Jinta's hands were the next to be bound tightly and his face was shoved into the dirt, Orihime's pleas fell on deaf ears. Ichigo wasn't doing any better, he was forced to surrender when the guns, and he did not struggle as they clasped his wrists together.

"No!" Orihime cried, struggling to get to him, only to be hoisted up to her unstable feet and tugged in the opposite direction, "W-Wait! Kurosaki-san!"

It appeared as though he wanted to stand, to get to her. His chin lowered, and he stared up at her through his thick locks of orange. She could see the dead set of his mouth, she could see the subtle struggle of his muscles, yearning to be free, and she could see the little, glittering gold specks in his brown gaze.

_You—_

"LET GO!" Jinta exploded, but was easily lifted with his small body. He was carried in another direction.

"Stop it!" Orihime fought tooth and nail, before she was finally hoisted up as well, transferred like a sack of rice, rammed against the soldier's side, her feet barely brushing the ground.

She was carried further and further away.

_"Ichigo!" _

His eyes tightened, and his muscles bunched violently at her voice saying his name, for the _first_ time.

_Dammit_.

**…**

**…**

"Don't try anything shifty or you'll be killed instantly, woman."

Orihime stumbled as she was shoved into the small cubicle. The bars slid back into place, trapping her. Slowly, she turned her head and met the eyes of the guard.

"You'll be taken to the prison tomorrow evening. Maybe if you're good, you won't have to die," he roved his eyes up and down her slender form, "_Maybe_."

Orihime averted her gaze. He chuckled in response, placing the key in the lock, turned, and it clicked into place. Orihime's small teeth pressed into her bottom lip at the sound, but she made no motion to get to the door. The guard walked away, slamming the next door after him.

It was silent. And _dark_.

Orihime's eyes hardened and she slipped from her sandals. Stooping low, she sat carefully on the filthy ground of the _cage_ and brought her uncomfortable arms underneath her feet easily, therefore bringing her arms to her front, much more functional.

_Much better._

Her relief was short-lived. She was trapped here, and she could not see any routes of escape, the bars locked, no window, and the guard had left the room. The cage in front of her was on problem, but the door that held the entire room together, the only route for complete escape was feet away. Turning her head, she surveyed the room thoroughly, a grimy, tattered futon, a bucket, catching the water from the ceiling, and she thought she saw something move in the corner, a mouse or insect.

Also, she was very hungry, tired, and her feet were aching. She'd never seen any prisons before, much less jails. She never gave much thought to them, and it was quite a surprise the Princess of Japan was locked inside of a cell. Her mother would probably be terribly upset if she heard any news of this.

_I miss Kurosaki-san._

She sighed softly, lowering her hands.

She had nearly forgotten how lonely she became without him.

"Mou~ so unfair…" Orihime murmured to herself, trying to search for a place to get comfortable.

"Ara, ara~ Do I have someone ta finally talk ta who ain't male?"

Orihime squeaked, nearly jumping out of her skin. She had failed to notice, but the right wall, turned out not to be a wall at all. It was bars, bordering something else on the other side, which she guessed was another cage. Quickly, her eyes adjusted to the dark, and when she heard the dull footsteps heading her way, she did not hesitate to take a few steps back.

Thin, long fingers wrapped around the bars separating them and a face leaned in.

Orihime _blinked_.

"H…Hirako-kun?"

"Orihime-chan?"

Both stared at each other for a few, silent seconds, one, two, three—

Suddenly, a big grin lightened up the blonde's face, "Orihime-chan! Long time no see~!"

Orihime beamed right back. Shinji Hirako was a sight for sore eyes. She had not seen the man since her brother's death. They had only met a few times since he was the caretaker of the horses in the palace's stables, but when Onii-chan was murdered, he was soon let go, and she hadn't seen the twelve year old boy for years. Now at nineteen, Orihime could see he'd also grown too. A lot had changed, his hair was shorter, he was taller, and from what she could tell, he was wearing a tie and very nice clothes. It was very hard in these times to dress this nice.

"What're you doing here?" She questioned, cheerfully ecstatic to see a familiar face. Tilting her head, she blinked again, "Are you in trouble, Hirako-kun?"

He grinned wider, "As cute as always, Orihime-chan." He shook his head, "No way. I'm fine. After all, I'm such a gentleman."

Her eyes shined innocently, "Are you sure? Usually when you are put behind bars, you are in very much trouble."

"What about ya," he jerked his chin towards her, "What're ya doin' here?"

Flushing in mild chagrin, Orihime averted her gaze, "Nothing…really."

"And still bad at lyin'," he teased.

Orihime sputtered for a second before shaking her head, "N-No! You have it all wrong! You see, Kurosaki-san and I—"

To her surprise, his eyes narrowed, "Kurosaki…?"

Orihime frowned curiously, "Yes. Kurosaki-san. Do you know him?"

She watched as a look passed over his face. He opened his mouth to reply, only for a giant bang to cut him off. Orihime's and Shinji's heads snapped around, and they were quite shocked to see Ichigo, orange hair and all, standing at the entrance of the tight-spaced room, the door kicked open and hanging off the hinges, along with Jinta-kun, small and struggling to escape Kurosaki's grip. Before Orihime knew it, a smile lit up her face, slow and precious as she parted her lips,

"Kurosaki-san!"

His eyelashes lifted and his molten gaze found hers a second later, "Kitten."

"You _came_!" She rejoiced joyfully, yet flushing at the name use. "I'm so happy."

Shinji watched this exchange severely, _This is_…

"Of course I fuckin' came." He sheathed his bloody sword, and Orihime did not wish to know how it had gotten like that. "Did ya think I would let you rot in a place like this?"

"Nope." Orihime chirped, "I _knew_ Kurosaki-san would come." Her eyes shined, large and honey, sweet and wholesome. Ichigo's eyes locked with hers for a second, his lips softening to a degree – a handsome, small smirk appearing on his face.

"Well, ain't ya two cute?" Shinji drawled dryly.

Ichigo's eyes narrowed, the _thing_ between him and Orihime shattered. He shot his gaze to the cell next to Orihime's, "I shoulda known you would be locked up here. What'ya do this time?"

Shinji grinned, feral, "Now why would ya think that?"

Ichigo snorted in reply as Orihime glanced between them curiously.

"I assume yer with tis' guy, Orihime-chan?" Shinji inquired, "Don'tcha know he's fuckin' dangerous?"

"But, Hirako-kun—"

He tsk'ed, "Tatsuki-kun would not approve."

Orihime pursed her lips, "You know she does not like it when you call her that, Hirako-kun."

"You two…" Jinta grimaced deeply, "Wait. All of you damn know each other?!"

"Small world," Shinji said.

Orihime glanced back Kurosaki-san, only to see him staring directly at her. She started and blinked, curious and somewhat frightened of his gaze, the narrowed eyes flashed amber and hardened, his jaw muscles clenching. He seemed upset, tenser than usual, muscles bunched tightly under his black shihakusho. Hesitantly, Orihime called,

"Kurosaki-san?"

It was as though he whirled back to life. His eyes darkened, and his lips resumed into the usual, funny scowl. As Jinta was tucked against his side, he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, staring at Orihime, "C'mon. We're leaving."

Orihime jerked again in surprise, "N…Now?"

"Yeah," he grunted, "Get your ass moving."

Instead of her usual pouting attitude, Orihime saluted him playfully, "Sir, yes, sir!" Ichigo merely glowered at her. Jinta watched in surprise as Orihime searched the floor, and finally came up with a small tool, murmuring, "Ah!" when she found it, maybe a nail to a rusty door. His eyes nearly bugged as the girl easily unlocked the cuffs around her hands and it clicked, falling to the ground uselessly. Orihime rubbed her sore wrists. "I should have taken them off sooner."

Ichigo reared back his leg and launched it forward, kicking the steely bars straight open. The door creaked as it slammed against Hirako's side of the cage. "We don't have time to waste, Kitten."

"Hai~"

"Oh," Hirako-kun murmured to himself, yanking his hands apart strongly to break his own cuffs. "Time ta go already?"

"All of you are weirdos…" Jinta muttered.

To Orihime's vague surprise, he slipped to the door, brought his skinny arms through the bars, and placed the key in the lock, easily sliding caged door out of the way. He twirled the key on one finger as he walked forward nonchalantly. Jinta nearly had a heart attack, "YOU'VE HAD THE KEY THE ENTIRE TIME?!"

Shinji blinked, a tad bit surprised at the yelling kid, "Yeah."

"WHY DIDN'T YOU USE IT TO GET OUT OF HERE EARLIER?!"

"That's such a hassle. And plus, they have free food."

"YOU'RE AN IDIOT—"

"Would you two shut the fuck up?" Ichigo snarled, glaring at them both.

"Bossy~" Shinji sang lowly.

"Ch!" Jinta crossed his arms. They both were quiet though.

"We're goin' to have to leave quickly," Ichigo said, eyes narrowing as they went to the open door, "The guards have probably already let out a warning that we've escaped." He walked towards the door, glanced to the right and left and then nodded. "Let's go."

When she felt someone behind her, she threw a startled glance over to Shinji, who was grinning cheekily down at her, his eyes dancing with mirth, "I can't have a woman walking around in prison barefoot." To her slight surprise, she had vaguely remembered she left her sandals in the cell. "How about I carry you, Orihime-chan?"

"Hirako-kun, I'm fi—"

"Yeah, she's already covered for," Orihime nearly squealed when she felt hands grasp her hips, lifted her rather easily, and she found herself on his shoulder.

"WAH~!" She cried, searching for something to hold onto, "Ano, Kurosaki-san—"

She wiggled, flushing rather deeply at the turn of events. She grasped onto the back of his black clothing, squirming, "I got 'er," Ichigo drawled.

Shinji blinked as the small, redhead kid was launched at him. He caught the boy quickly, who began hollering up a storm.

"K-Kurosaki-san! Please, I can walk." Orihime insisted, her cheeks flaming at this point. He tightened his hold around the backs of her thighs, holding her there. His warmth was intoxicating and his smell had her mouth dry. Ichigo ignored her and turned in the other direction. Her heart was in a frenzy as they left the celled room. Now, she could see the wounded bodies of soldiers, all bleeding and bruised heavily. She decided it was best not to comment on this, for Kurosaki-san would just yell at her. Hanging limply on his broad shoulder, she watched as Shinji rolled his brown eyes.

"Stuck with the damn kid,"

"What the hell are you doing here, anyway?" Ichigo snapped over his free shoulder, kicking a limp guard out of the way, "Shouldn't you be up Shuuhei's ass?"

Shinji's expression darkened, "Oh, hardy har har," he sneered, "Good one. I should be askin' ya that. Ya vanished off da face of da earth and then I find out yer all da way out in Karakura Kingdom, about ta get yer damn head chopped off."

Ichigo was silent for a tense second, causing Orihime to pause her wiggle curiously. When he spoke, his voice was darker, "How many people are mad?"

"Fuckin' Grimmjow is tearin' out yer name and don't even get me started on Rukia. She's been tryin' to calm down everyone else when she can barely think straight. I think Sado is da only one keepin' calm and maybe Ikkaku, but he's been laughing his ass off all da time."

"So everyone thinks I'm dead?" Ichigo muttered.

"Ya could say that." Shinji tossed carelessly, "Rukia-chan's worried, but it's 'tis other rumor goin' around sayin' ya was killed by Ishida, which I knew was bullshit."

"Ishida-san is very nice!" Orihime squeaked from Ichigo's back, a bundle of pink and red.

Shinji gazed down at her lazily, "And what about 'er?" He jerked a finger down at her, "What're ya doin' with Orihime-chan?"

"What's it to you?"

"Just wonderin'. I'm sure da guys back at home would _love_ ta hear yer infatuated~" Shinji teased playfully.

"What!"

Orihime nearly toppled from his shoulder, squeaking and blushing, "I-Infatuated?"

Ichigo whirled around to face Shinji, "Who would be infatuated with _this_?" he shook Orihime roughly for emphasis.

"G-Gomen—"

"Dammit! What're you apologizing for?!" Ichigo hollered indignantly.

"Eep! Sorry!"

"This is getting us nowhere," Jinta said blankly.

Orihime's eyes widened when she saw a group of guards, maybe two or three, rushing around the corner, their eyes landing on them all, "Oi! There they are! Capture them!"

"U-Um…Kurosaki-san?"

"Ya really lost yer touch," Shinji shook his head almost sadly, "Didn't even get them all…"

"Shut the fuck up!" Ichigo raged.

"Don't take yer anger out on me."

Orihime tried to intervene, "Please, they are coming—"

"And why the hell are you here anyway?" Ichigo continued, as though she weren't there, "You never answered my question."

Shinji shrugged, "I nearly beat a guy to death. He tricked me into buyin' some bullshit. Seems I'm out doin' ya. After all, ya did lose to Ishida, ne~?"

"I DID NOT!"

"So defensive~"

"U-Um—"

Just as the first guard raised his sword and aimed directly towards Ichigo's shoulder, towards her, Orihime nearly screamed. Of course, nothing got past Ichigo, and his hand shot out, catching the blade with his bare palm. Orihime gasped sharply as the blood seeped down from his hand.

"K-Kurosaki-san! What are—"

Ignoring her, he lifted his leg and kicked the man directly in his stomach, sending him spiraling down the hall, and into another guard. Just as the third came barreling down the hall, Shinji tossed Jinta onto his shoulders, withdrawing his own blade.

"I'll take care of tis," he said, "Go on ahead with Orihime-chan."

Ichigo leered, "Whatever you say." He tightened his grip around Orihime's thighs, causing the girl to flush, "Take care of the kid."

"Oi! Don't leave me here!" Jinta shrieked heatedly.

"So loud…" Hirako groused.

Orihime gasped sharply as Ichigo took off, faster than she thought was possible. He knocked the exit's door out of the way. It turned out they were both mistaken. It was a trail of stone stairs trailing up lengthily, so far, she could not see the end of it. Ichigo did not seem to mind, climbing the steps easily, and she could hear the guards bustling about, searching for the two. When Ichigo broke through the second door, Orihime could feel the night's air on her revealed skin. It was dark and she could vaguely tell they were on the roof of the jail, the village quiet and still.

"Somebody went outside! After them!"

"Dammit," Ichigo hissed under his breath.

When Orihime was placed on her bare feet, she struggled to readjust her senses. The blood had flown to her head and her legs felt numb. For support, she grabbed onto Ichigo left arm, both hands bunching in his shihakusho. She could hear the sound of the guards hurrying up the stairs, shouting and cursing.

"Kitten,"

Orihime's head snapped up at the call. Ichigo's eyes were narrowed dangerously, but the brown was burning, locking with her honeyed gaze. She nearly trembled at the stare, but kept her knees locked, her hands tightened in his clothing just in case.

"Y-Yes?"

"I need you to jump to the next building," he gestured with his chin to the building next to the prison, abandoned and the ceiling was sinking inward. It did not look safe to land on, but Orihime could make it to the other side it collapsed onto her. Testing her body's weariness, Orihime swallowed and nodded shakily. His eyes roved over her, "Can you?"

"I-I…I'll try for Kurosaki-san."

A corner of his mouth lifted into a leering smirk, "Ya better not fall." Just like that, his expression darkened, "Or I'll have to come after you."

She released his shihakusho quickly, licking her dry lips nervously, "R-Right."

"Be careful. And go on my word."

When the door was swung open once again, Orihime was surprised at the number of men. At least ten. Ichigo tightened his grip on his sword.

"Go!"

Whirling around, Orihime was off. Vaguely, she heard footsteps rushing after her, but she ignored this as best as she could, refusing to glance over her shoulder. Not to mention, her body was nearly ready to give.

_Onii-chan, give me strength. _

She bent her knees as she came towards the edge and leapt with her last bit of strength. She nearly flailed when her feet left the ground. She had forgotten to latch onto something, anything, but at the last moment, she managed to catch herself on the edge of the next building. The rough stone dug into her fingers and palms, and her arms strained at the weight of her body.

"She jumped off the side!" One shouted.

"After her!"

"She's right there!"

She kicked her feet, digging her toes into the hut's side. Somehow, she managed to scramble up the wall. When she lifted herself off the ledge, she panted, her face flushed and her body almost screaming for rest. Faintly, she could still hear the sound of swords clashing, shouts of orders, and even the crickets. The guards were becoming closer to her and she could see two scaling up the wall, grunting.

To her surprise, she hadn't fallen through the wooden ceiling, and she somehow found her balance, forcing her legs to work. Rushing back to her side, and wrenched the clay brick from the railing. Leaning over, she met the eyes of one soldier, murmuring,

"I'm really sorry,"

And then dropped the brick straight onto his face. He shouted in pain and lost his hold on the wall, falling to the ground below with a sickening thud, bones presumably breaking. The other guard howled up at her,

"You little bitch! Think you can get away with that?!"

When she could not find another loose brick or weapon, she scrambled back as he managed to climb onto the roof along with her. She was unprepared when he tackled her, arms around her slender body, and they both slammed onto the hard roof, which was creaking underneath their combined weight. Instinctively, Orihime squirmed, kicking her feet and clawing her nails towards him as the adrenaline set in. He was stronger though, and he locked his legs over hers, cursing when she landed a slashing blow on his cheek.

"Let go!" Orihime demanded. Her nails dug into flesh and she struggled to free her legs. His hands found purchase on her neck, just as her fist knocked directly in his crooked nose. The man bayed and staggered. Orihime took that chance to roll from under him. He stumbled to his feet.

"Wench!" he yanked out a small dagger, "I'll kill you myself!"

As he started towards her, she lifted her foot and jabbed it directly into his chest. He lurched backwards again, the roof groaned, and he fell onto his back. To her shock, the wood gave in, and his body sunk into hut below. Scrambling backwards on her bottom, Orihime panted.

"Kitten!"

Orihime gasped sharply, and glanced up just in time to see Ichigo rushing towards her. He wasn't injured, thankfully. He scaled the roof slope. Orihime nearly jerked in shock when Ichigo leaned down, snatching up her right, small hand, and tugged her along. He scaled the side of the hut, yanking Orihime along with him. It was even darker on the ground. Orihime stumbled after him, her eyes fighting to stay open.

"Kurosaki-san, where's—"

"Oooooooiiii! Ichigo! Orihime-chan!"

Ichigo's head snapped up to see Shinji walking towards them casually, holding Jinta against his side, who was panting, eyes wide and frightened. Shinji and Jinta were unscathed, and seemed to be perfectly fine, besides the little blood specks dotting their clothes.

The slumber held over her head and it seemed to break when the relief glazed over her being. Orihime felt her body waver as Ichigo jerked to a stop. She heard him say something, but she was not sure what it was – her ears had given up a very long time ago. Without her consent, her head rested against his left arm, her hand still limply in his.

_Kurosaki-san is so warm…_

"Orihime?"

_Kurosaki-san smells good…_

She could vaguely hear the wariness, the curiosity in his voice as she leaned against him heavily.

"Oi! Orihime!"

The darkness came and fell.

**…**

**…**

Her eyelids fluttered.

"Eh? I think she's waking up."

The voice was light, small, and dainty. Ururu-chan.

"I hope so! She's been hogging my damn futon!"

Mean, loud, and always angry. Jinta-kun.

Flesh met flesh, hard and angry.

"Ow!"

"Don't be so fuckin' greedy,"

_That_ voice was familiar.

Orihime's lids pulled back to reveal drowsy hazel orbs. There was a sharp gasp and Orihime glanced to the left and then right, searching for the amber gaze. When she found it, she beamed brightly.

"Kurosaki-san."

His eyes narrowed. She saw _something_ flash in his gaze, but she decided not to question it.

"O-Orihime-san!" Ururu infiltrated her vision, her large eyes concerned, yet relieved, "You're awake!"

"Yes," she sat up quickly, but obviously too quick, her head spinning in circles. Strong, unfamiliar hands caught her slim shoulders and she glanced backwards to see Tessai, a healthy glow to his skin and dark eyes smiling brightly down at her. "T-Tessai-san!"

"Orihime-dono, hello." His voice was light, no longer the weak rasp he had only two days ago.

"Y-You mean…?" Orihime gasped sharply, raising a hand to her head as the memories flooded her mind, "Oh!"

"Yep," Jinta smirked smugly, "The Calvary is still moping around for the casualties, but I haven't seen any around."

Ururu smiled, "And we have the medicine. Tessai is already up and moving."

"I'm sorry you had to go through all that trouble," Tessai murmured, sounding deeply sincere.

Orihime cupped her cheeks, eyes growing larger on her pretty face, "I…I can't believe I broke out of a prison." Slapping her palms together, as though to pray, she bowed her head, "I'm so, so, so sorry, Onii-chan! I've sinned once more!"

"The hell?" Ichigo groused, "Are you an idiot?"

She popped back upwards, her hair falling back down her back as she blinked innocently, "Sumimasen!"

Ichigo nearly face-palmed.

"Ooooh~ Orihime-chan!"

"Hirako-kun!"

She was surprised to see him still here. He lifted the fold of the door, crossed the room, and crouched down to her side. It appeared as though it was still night, or very early morning. Taking a hold of both of her small hands in his long ones, he leaned closer to her face. Orihime blinked again at his somber expression.

"Orihime-chan," his tone was deep, and he bored his eyes into hers, "Will you do me the favor of bearing my children?"

It was silent.

Orihime made a noise in the back of her throat in shock as her eyes grew impossibly large, "Eeeeh?"

"Well, after seen' ya after all these years, ya have grown some potential, Orihime-chan. If we were ta be together, then we could make da _best_ children." He tugged her closer by the hands, now grinning wickedly, "And with yer agility and looks, they'll be a match for the entire world."

Mouths had fallen open and eyes had bugged.

Finally, Orihime was able to grasp what he was exactly saying, and this caused a blush to ignite in her cheeks, "A-Ano…Hirako-kun, I—"

"Bastard!"

Somehow, Ichigo had gotten up, and before Orihime could protest, his fist swung violently, aiming for the back of Hirako's head. Ururu shrieked as Shinji ducked under the punch and moved back a couple paces smoothly, chuckling at Ichigo, who had whirled around to face him, placing his hand on the hilt of his black sword.

"So mean, Ichigo~!" Shinji sang.

"Kurosaki-san!" Orihime reprimanded.

"He says this to every fuckin' girl!" Ichigo snapped, facing her now, "He even asked Ururu and she's damned nine."

"I said I would wait." Shinji protested lazily as Ururu flushed. His eyes fell back on the sputtering Orihime, "I'll wait for ya too, Orihime-chan. Even though I know ya cannot resist my charms. But I'll wait for my fire love, of course."

"Ain't you supposed to be leaving?" Ichigo barked, "Get outta here already!"

"You are leaving, Hirako-kun?" Orihime asked, frowning curiously.

"Yes, I know it is sad, Orihime-chan," he waggled his eyebrows at her, "I have ta get back ta my men, after all. Grimmjow is probably brewin' up a storm anyway." He turned back to Ichigo, staring at the orange-haired lazily, "Want me ta spread the word of yer beatin' heart?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Ichigo scowled at him, "I don't fuckin' care. Just don't tell 'em where I am. I don't need that damn _midget_ on my tail."

"Yeah, yeah," Hirako waved him off before returning his attention to the redhead, "See ya later, Orihime-chan~ I promise I won't leave ya alone with this _beast_ forever."

Withdrawing his sword violently, Ichigo snarled, "Who the fuck are _you_ calling beast?"

"Kurosaki-san!"

**…**

**…**

Cold eyes stared down at the man, crooking up brown eyebrows.

"It sure is taking a while, isn't it, Gin."

Gin's smile widened as he tossed up the small bag of coins in his palm, "Does it really matter? Ya get it ever' time." His employer, it seemed, was a true hindrance, hard to please.

A smirk, "Yes. I suppose you're right. Right now, I'm just waiting for her."

"An' how long do ya plan ta wait?"

"As long as it takes, Gin."

**…**

**…**

Orihime stared out at the deep river. It was probably chilly and fish, but Orihime did not mind. In fact, she could not wait to feel water on her heated skin. Ichigo sat a few feet away, arms and legs crossed as he sat on the ground. After the entire of ordeal of jail, Ichigo hadn't left her side for more than two days. It was flattered her honestly, and made her head and stomach swim with butterflies.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to," She offered quietly, attempting to ignore the overwhelming heat in her cheeks.

"Will you pipe down already!" Ichigo snapped at her, but it didn't hold its usual spite, "I'm not gonna turn around so get over with it already."

Timidly, she pushed open the top of her robes just a bit, allowing her collarbone to be exposed, and her shoulders bare to the cool wind. Orihime turned back towards the water, placing her sore feet inside. Indeed, the water was freezing, and goosebumps rose on her flesh.

"Tessai and the kids are leaving for Mundo tomorrow," Ichigo spoke up after a moment's silence.

Orihime snapped her head around, surprised, "They are?" She mulled the idea over, "That's good. After all, it won't take long for the guards to rise their suspicions again and go after Jinta-kun."

"Yeah," Ichigo grunted, "That's why we're leavin' tomorrow too."

"Hai," Orihime chirped. She would follow him anywhere, it seemed. That thought had something tugging in her gut, something she did not wish to think about too much.

"You should get more sleep, too," Ichigo muttered, almost reluctantly, "I almost freaked out when you collapsed onto me, boke."

Orihime fidgeted, blushing once more, "S-Sorry, Kurosaki-san. Hehe…I never really thought I would be so drained." She kicked her feet in the water.

"The hell?" Ichigo grumbled, "You're still calling me that?"

"Eh?" Orihime glanced at him over her shoulder.

"You called me Ichigo earlier," he said, but his tone was low, "You don't get to call me bloody _'Kurosaki-san'_ anymore."

"B-But it's more polite to—"

"Kitten, does it look like I care about fuckin' _polite_?"

Returning her gaze to her lap nervously, Orihime bit her bottom lip, "I'm sorry then…I-Ichigo." Her heart speeded up as she spoke his name and her stomach turned over.

"Dammit!" Ichigo suddenly stood, fuming. Orihime nearly jumped when she felt his body heat close to hers. When his hands touched her face, there was a spark of the contact, but it evaporated when he suddenly pinched both of her cheeks, yanking them roughly.

"WAH~!" Orihime cried, flailing "W-What're you doing? Kurosaki-san—I mean, I-Ichigo! AH! It hurts, it hurts!"

"Damn you," Ichigo growled, tugging with all his might at her cheeks, stretching the pink, soft flesh from her face.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please stop! Itai~!" She tried to wiggle away from him, but he was stronger and faster, pinching again and again until she began to feel tears pricking her eyes. "I'm sorry—"

"Man, I'm gonna strangle you the next time you say sorry!" He muttered.

Hesitantly, Orihime fluttered her wide, teary gaze back open, and managed to smile softly at him, "Please don't be angry with me."

His hands softened on her face, letting up, and his eyes narrowed, thick lashes surrounding overbearingly intense amber eyes, "You're weird." He muttered after a second.

Orihime's smile widened into a beam, but she did not say anything. Everything inside of her was _glowing_ from the simple contact between them, the easy exchange of words and the way her skin buzzed when he touched her.

His teeth clenched at the hot flash coursing through his body. Again, he took a hard hold of her cheeks, "Dammit! Stop smiling!"

"I'm sorry! Sorry!"

"Shut _up_!"

"WAH~! Ichigo, please!"

**…**

**…**

**Yay! I'm done with this chapter. Darn, and I forgot all about Left You Behind. I only have like three hundred words on the next chapter and I'm still stuck. I was almost stuck on this chapter too. I can't stand it when I have writer's block. Good thing I actually thought this chapter through. Now that Orihime and Ichigo are getting closer I can start this adventure. Well, I think it's already there, but it's still a lot to be done. I have a feeling this story is going to be so, so, so freaking long. Hehe, and I had to do the Miroku for Hirako-kun. I just love them both.**

**Oh, well. I like long stories. Now to work on Down and Left You Behind, and oh, yeah! Can't Reach. So many things to do…**

**Who else loves Hirako-kun? I know I do and I can't wait to bring Ichigo's "crew" into this. I love writing them, but not as much as I love writing the interaction between Ichigo and Orihime.**

**Please review. It makes me dance. **

**-Star**


	8. Chapter 8

**...**

**…**

When he was younger, he'd never been the one to start violence.

But somehow, it always found him. In the village, he was beaten to a pulp, scars and bruises that would never go away. His heart was easily damaged from the hate continuing to consume his body. He hated _everyone_ – he hated the farmers, he hated the giggly girls, he hated the boys that were bigger than him, and he especially hated _himself_.

But there was one person – one person that would always be there, that would smile widely, that would brush away any tears, that would pick him up when he fell down. And when she wrapped her arms around him, it was enough for his hate to calm. But that one day, when he came home, bruised eyes, bleeding lip, broken wrist, she'd called out his name softly, she'd fallen to her knees, she'd cupped his face tenderly and gazed into his dark brown eyes.

_"Ichigo…"_

That was the first time he'd ever seen her cry. The droplets would continue to fall over his heart.

Years later, when the twins were born, and the house was too small, his mother had gotten a job, somewhere in the palace and she nursed the Princess of his country. He did not care, but it made less time for them to be together. Instead, to drain time and energy, he trained with his father. Bokken hurt more than an actual sword, to Ichigo anyway, especially when the wooden thing knocked him on the head. Of course, his father would grin cheekily as Ichigo cursed and raged until the twins laughed.

And his mother would come home, tuck him into the futon, kiss his forehead. When one night he asked what his name exactly meant, for he was tired of being called "Strawberry", she seemed surprised before grinning.

"Your name means 'to protect', Ichigo. Haven't I told you that before?"

And so he would protect _her_, his family, and his pride.

And then _it_ happened,

Screams.

_"Help, Onii-chan, help!"_

_"Ichi-nii!"_

A small, cruel smirk.

"Off with their heads,"

The screams _stopped_.

And his mother was _taken_ before his eyes.

His heart drowned in its own sorrow.

Somehow, his father had survived, had fought through the fires and death, and dragged Ichigo out, who had been clinging his sister's bleeding, limp bodies. A burial was made and the house was cast aside. His mother did not return and neither did the life to his chocolate eyes.

And Ichigo would never forget that sly, dark smirk and those cold brown eyes that stared into his as the blood splattered against the pale face. Ichigo would never forget that smile, would never forget those eyes, never forget that _face_ that hid in the dark. He would never forget the one who stole _everything_ from him.

Years skipped by and the bitter, disgusting guilt would never descend. Instead, it bugged him constantly as he traveled across Japan, searching and searching for the one person who'd taken from him. Kisuke and Yoruichi was probably the only way he stayed alive – they gave him money for food, and when he was in dire need for help, they came without any questions. When he met a small, pretty girl by the name of Senna, he was swept into something fierce. He was entranced by the beauty – she was mysterious, cunning, and lethal, yet she held the air of a flower, small and wonderful. As she led him down the road of love, she also led him to her "family" or that was what she liked to call them. To put a long story short, they were all yakuza – they killed for money or kidnapped for bribes. Ichigo was pulled into the mess, gaining money and respect, killing whenever he felt to do so, and collecting things he found as useful.

Senna seemed excited by the manner and wrapped around him like a snake, her golden eyes keen and teasing whenever they locked with his. He was oddly attached to her and when it came to intimacy between the two, neither held back in scratching, bruising, and plain _fucking_. There wasn't any love, or not to Senna. She never voiced her infatuation for Ichigo, if there was any. Ichigo, though, was definitely in love with the girl, finding her irresistible, wishing to touch her whenever he had the chance. She had rejected him blatantly, shortly, and without a backward glance as she left him behind.

Again, his heart despaired for him. At some point, he vaguely asked himself why he still had a heart.

He did not see much of Senna anymore and she kept her distance. Rukia had apologized for her cousin's ways, saying that she was like the wind, untouchable and free, and he'd strangled one of his best friends. If it hadn't been for Renji, Rukia would've been dead. About a year later, Ichigo had ventured out on his own, Shinji had called him an idiot as Sado nodded, allowing his friend to go anywhere. Constantly, Ichigo found himself in fights, something he began to thirst for, and in prison.

There were places he searched for cold brown eyes, other he wished to clutch onto the wind, but he never questioned himself.

_"Your name means 'to protect', Ichigo. Haven't I told you that before?"_

That was a lie.

Because he'd failed _her_, his family, and his pride a long time ago.

He'd been alone for almost his entire life.

He was discard, a piece of trash that would never be truly thrown away, or maybe a wave that kept coming to the same sand, or perhaps a cloud that wouldn't stop causing rain.

One day, he'd asked himself, _When will the rain stop?_

**…**

**…**

_Refreshing…_

Orihime stood, bare, underneath the water. It slid from above, a small waterfall. She allowed it to soak through her hair, chill her skin, and clean the grime and dirt from her body. It had only been three days since the _'prison break'_ and Ichigo had been completely serious when he claimed they would leave as soon as possible. Her feet still hurt from the long walk from the village, and now they were heading deep towards the East, where there were mostly woods and fewer villages were built.

Already, she began to miss Ururu-chan, Jinta-kun, and Tessai-san. Not to mention – she ran her hands through her sodden hair, pushing it back from her wet face – Hirako-kun. Her stomach flipped over. He'd known her secret, he knew she was the Princess of Japan, soon to marry, and wasn't supposed to be venturing out with random men. Yet he had not said a word of deceitful ways, and for that, she was thankful. She still hadn't allowed Kuro—_Ichigo_ of her true identity. This scared her, frightened her, really. They'd gotten close over the last couple weeks, had learned little and little about each other, and conversed on a regular basis. One could think they were _friends_.

Orihime paused, dropping her arms to her sides as the water continued to wash over her.

_Friends…?_

Was she Kurosa—_Ichigo's_ friend? If it were for the gnawing _feelings_ that hung underneath her heart, she would've vehemently agreed, honestly and truthfully. But no. There was something deeper that ran between the two, whether it be the shy glances she would throw to him when he said "Kitten", or how he would stare too long when she smiled at him. Either way, she knew this was _not_ good. She was frightened – terrified she would become used to this, become desperate for any kind of attention he bestowed upon her.

_No_.

Her lids lowered over her honeyed gaze.

_I can't…_

Stepping from underneath the waterfall, she covered her heavy breasts with her arms, stepping to the edge of the lake. She spied her clothes against the edge and she did not waste any time in dressing. This kimono was sunshine yellow, but the same design as her other one, which was too dirty and worn to wear anymore. Though she did not enjoy stealing, Ichigo had gotten it for her. It was thick enough to keep her warm, but just as constricting against her curves as the last, outline her calves, thighs, and hips. She managed to tie her white and yellow obi around her waist tight and pushed her arms through the sleeves before she paused.

_I can't allow this to…_

She blinked slowly and watched her reflection whirl away as a ripple sprung forth.

"O-Oi! Look! A woman!"

Orihime's head jerked up in time to see three men, dressed in dark clothing. Instantly, she could tell they were not good news. She'd meant to not appear like a helpless woman and screech for help, but she'd failed to notice she hadn't finished putting on her kimono. Her delicate collarbone, pale shoulders, and heavy cleavage were exposed.

Orihime squealed.

From a few feet away, Ichigo's ears perked. Instantly, he was up and rushing towards the river. Breaking through the bushes and other vegetation, Ichigo yanked his sword from the sheath, fully prepared to slice and dice.

"Orihime!"

And then he skidded to a halt just in time to see Orihime knock a man on the head with a heavy stone. Almost immediately, the man sunk into the water, creating a shallow splash. Two others scurried away, too far away from Ichigo to have the time to catch them. He returned his attention to Orihime, who turned her head to meet his gaze.

He was surprised when she clamped her arms around herself, "K-K-Kurosaki-san!"

"What?" He scowled, "What's the big deal…" He trailed off when he saw the droplets of water leaking down from her slender, bare shoulders to her noticeable cleavage. Her face was flushed a deep pink and she hurried to turn her back to him.

"I-I'm not decent," she nearly whimpered, "Please…"

He snorted vaguely, trying to yank down the overwhelming emotions pulsing inside of him. He turned though, and told his stupid brain to stop playing the images over and over again. He was like some horny canine, couldn't control his instincts or urgings, whether it be to eat something or fuck something. Dragging out a harsh breath, he ran his rough palm down his face.

"Dammit…"

"O-Okay," Orihime murmured a second later, "You can turn around now."

Wryly, Ichigo did what he was told. Orihime swallowed as Ichigo glanced up from underneath his lashes and roved his gaze over her. He was silent and Orihime tried to ignore the blush blooming over her face and neck. When he turned again, re-sheathing his black sword, he said,

"That color suits you."

Orihime jerked, startled, "R-Really?"

"I wouldn't say it if I did not mean, Kitten," he said, and his voice held a bit of irritation and something else she could not put her finger on.

"R-Right…"

"Let's get going."

"A-Ah! Wait for me!"

**…**

**…**

She was always good with the piano. It had been a gift from her mother, brought in from Italy.

The butlers and maids used to gather around her, smiling and clapping their hands when she finished a masterpiece.

And then Onii-chan would always be there, placing a hand on her head, with a small, appreciative smile. Her mother did not congratulate her and her father was almost never around. But in this palace, in her brother's arms, she truly felt like a princess.

As she continued to play the piano, her nimble fingers careful on the keys, and the music spun like water, she allowed her mind to drift, to find something that was easier than ruling the country, easier than thinking of her brother's disappearances, easier than _thinking_. Her heart slowed and beat in time with the flowing music.

This way, she could find herself in a different world, more than this one, more than the next.

_"Orihime," _

When she opened her eyes, her brother was beside her, again leading her finger the correct path, playing out the elegant music, trusting her to continue on with her fluent learning. She was a quick learner, flexible when it came to different music, ranging from low to high, from the famous Beethoven to local melodies that raged within the village. She was patient with Onii-chan, even when, he, himself made a mistake, she did not correct him, because he would do that on his own.

One day, he'd stopped early and she was still eager for whatever he had in store. Placing a hand on her small head, he smiled down at her, "Orihime."

"Yes, Onii-chan?"

"I…"

She watched as an unfamiliar emotion swept over his face. She waited patiently.

"I need you to do something for me."

She beamed up at him, "Anything."

His smile widened, "Listen carefully…"

And as she gazed up at him, listening, eyes widening, turning deathly pale, and he smiled softly, continuing to pat her head, reassuring her as she stared at him in complete surprise and puzzlement.

"Will you do this one thing for, Orihime?"

"…Yes."

As they promised passionately to each other, Orihime allowed her will to slip and stagger.

And then _it_ happened,

His head.

_"O-Onii…Onii…" _

Detached from the body, but eyes closed and peaceful, as if he'd accepted his fate.

_"No!"_

The blood.

_"Onii-chan!"_

After his death, after watching the blood spread beneath her small feet, after accepting the hairclips that would forever stay with her, Orihime never entered that room where the piano sat, where she used to laugh and smile and be with her brother. The memories seemed frozen, as though she could walk into the room and find him still there, still smiling and patting the seat next to him so they could continue with the next lesson.

When she was fourteen, she'd thought over the promise and gazed out the window. It was dinner time, and the book she was reading was rather boring. As she stood, brushing down her elegant gown, she walked down the hall, past his empty room, and through the library. When she'd pushed open the doors, the room was empty besides the large piano that would always remain there and in her heart.

She walked to the instrument, touching the glossy material and murmured into the darkness, "Happy birthday, Onii-chan," just as her finger pressed down on one key. The bittersweet sound wafted through the tense air.

Her throat closed up.

Her eyes burned fiercely.

And her lips trembled.

It was truly a terrible world.

Darkness.

She did not wish to resurface.

One day, she'd asked himself, _How can I make it stop?_

**…**

**…**

This village was larger than others.

Orihime could literally _feel_ the life coming from the place. Of course, Ichigo kept a firm hold around her wrist. Orihime had flushed at this, but Ichigo had simply replied,

_"You get lost too fuckin' easily," _

Since it was true, she did not protest to such. He tugged her through the crowds, cursing when he almost trampled over playing kids, trying to stay silent when an old women treaded passed him slowly, and nearly killing someone when the chickens decided to flock around his feet.

"Ano…Kurosaki-san—" Suddenly, he took a rough hold of her cheeks. Orihime squealed, weakly flailing and pushing against his chest, as though to get away, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"What did I tell you, huh?" He drawled dryly, watching as she squirmed and her eyes turned teary, "What's my fuckin' name, Kitten?"

"Ichigo! Ichigo! It hurts~!" He released her and she cupped her hands over her sore cheeks, pouting up at him, "Mou, Kuro—" He glared down at her, "Ichigo, you're so mean." She rubbed her face, watching as Ichigo's eyes sparked with amusement.

"Yeah?" He leered wickedly, "So are you for wearing that damned outfit." He turned away from her, continuing on the narrow path through the villagers and stands. Orihime blinked in innocent confusion, glancing down at herself to see if anything was wrong.

"W-Wait for me!" She hurried after him. Kurosa—_Ichigo_ was always confusing her. When she finally reached him, he was standing in front of a home. It was in the end of the village, where no one probably ventured across. It was rather large, much more larger than she'd seen in a while. "U-Um, Ichigo, what're—"

The door slid open.

Instantly, the blush came and her mouth fell open.

A woman – which was _blatantly_ obvious – was standing the wide doorway, golden eyes staring down at the two, one eyebrow cocked. Fine, long violet hair fell down her bare back, and she placed her hands on her full hips, smiling as she regarded the two with an amused gaze.

"Oh…Oh!" Orihime whirled around, hiding her eyes from the view.

"Dammit," Ichigo groused, "Would you put some fuckin' clothes on?"

"Shouldn't you be happy, Ichi-kun~?" She asked with a sly smirk, "After all, who knows how long it's been since you've seen a woman's body? You should be bowing down to me."

Orihime was completely astonished by their conversation. The woman was naked, for goodness sake! But the villagers were also quiet, not even glancing twice when seeing the bare woman. Ichigo, though, was complaining dryly about her lack of dress.

"Huh?"

The purple-haired woman leaned around Ichigo's form to see the girl behind him.

"A girl?"

And then she grinned as the hazel, wide gaze hesitantly slid to hers.

_Well, if it isn't an Inoue._

**…**

**…**

"So you're here to stay for good?" Yoruichi – as Ichigo had introduced her – asked. She was thoroughly ignored by the orange-haired as he continued to feast on the rice and meat. Orihime could understand his hunger, after all, neither of them had had much food since they'd left Urahara's and there was no telling when another meal would be placed in front of them. "Oi!" She threw her sandal at his head, "Are you listening to me?"

The shoe bounced off his head harmlessly, but Orihime could spot the vein throbbing in his temple as he lifted his head from his bowl to address the dark-skinned woman, "You wanna die early, Yoruichi-san?"

In reply, the woman raised a brow higher, "Is that a challenge?"

As Orihime watched the two, she began to realize how close they actually were. Ichigo's eyes did not hold the typical malice and Yoruichi wasn't even near her sword, which lay in the corner of the large home, in the next room. Instead, she was smiling fondly, her eyes sparkling with mirth, and Ichigo was leering fiercely as the explicatives left his mouth. Orihime's eyes went back to her rice, which she had yet to taste.

_What is this feeling?_

"…and remember when Grimmjow put your favorite dagger underground. Ya never found it…"

"…wasn't fuckin' funny. I thought I would lose a lung…"

"…can be an idiot…"

"…you wish…"

Her eyelids lowered.

_They know each other very well. _

Shyly, she glanced back upwards, watching as Ichigo smirked again and Yoruichi-san leaned closer to him.

_Oh_.

Was she that desperate for Ichigo's attention? It had only been an hour, but he hadn't even glanced at her through the night's events. The sun slowly began to sank into the earth as Yoruichi had prepared dinner, and Ichigo had recalled times of their past together.

Ichigo also did not mind seeing the woman naked – though she was now fully dressed. For some odd reason, this made Orihime upset. Had they seen each other naked before? Was Ichigo accustomed to this behavior? The more she thought about it, the more she did not wish to.

"Kitten,"

Orihime started and looked up again, only to see a pair of amber eyes watching her closely.

"Y-Yes?"

"Oooh," Yoruichi's eyebrow was hitching higher into her bangs, "So you call her Kitten, do you?"

Ichigo scowled at her, "Mind your own business."

"Why should I?" The dark-skinned woman teased, placing a hand on Ichigo's messy head, "Look at you, growing up and whisking women away from castles. How cute."

Orihime's heart _stopped_.

Ichigo slapped her hand away and his scowl deepened, "Castles?"

When the golden, crafty gaze landed on her, Orihime lowered her head, digging her chopsticks deeper into the rice.

"Hm," Yoruichi murmured to herself, "Nothing."

Ichigo raised his eyebrow, but did not say anything.

"Must be my imagination," Yoruichi replied, shrugging her slim shoulders. Ichigo glanced at the flustered Orihime, and she quickly averted her gaze, returning to her food. The turned tense and silent, causing Ichigo to grow frustrated with the two. Before he could open his mouth and demand an answer, there was the loud sound of hooves hitting the ground.

Orihime glanced up curiously and Yoruichi turned her head around towards the door. When the sound suddenly came to abrupt halt, Orihime tilted her head to the side curiously, only for there to be a sharp yell of panic and then _something_ sprang through the door and tumbled onto the floor.

Orihime shrieked in shock, scrambling backwards as the man landed right in front of her. He was fairly big, muscles as well, and dressed casually in dark pants and shirt. He also had a colorful bandanna over his head, along with sandals on his feet, one on the ground from his disastrous fall.

Yoruichi, of course, was not deterred by any of this. Instead, she was gazing at her door, "You're gonna have to pay for that," She said flatly.

As the man groaned on the floor, his face flat on the ground, Orihime began to worry, "A-Ano…sir?" She reached forward to poke him, only for the man to shoot up the next second, startling her once again, and rubbed a hand over his head.

"Owwww…" He complained.

"The hell?" Ichigo sputtered as the man grimaced and stood over his weak feet. With his dark eyes, he found Yoruichi lazing on the floor. He did not stop there. Without warning, he rushed towards the woman, taking a hold of her hands, and said,

"Yoruichi-sama…m-m-my sister…!" he cried, "Took the…! OH~!"

Orihime blinked.

Ichigo glowered.

Yoruichi did not appear interested.

"Yeah? You're sister? How's Kukaku doing?"

"No!" He blubbered, "Dammit…" Suddenly, he seemed to realize the other presences in the room. Slowly, he turned his head and his eyes landed directly on Ichigo. Orihime nearly sighed – as all the other times, this would not end well. "Huh?" The man's persona dropped almost automatically – from whining and panicking to dark and upset, "What's this?" He let go of Yoruichi's hands, and stood, glaring directly at Ichigo. "Why is there a piece o' shit yakuza here in a place like this?"

Ichigo's eyes hardened, "What?"

Stepping closer so that they were face-to-face, the mystery man snapped at him, "Don't _what_ me!" Orihime watched in complete shock as the man raised his hand and pressed it lightly – _condescendingly_ – against Ichigo's left cheek, "I asked why is there a piece o' shit yakuza here in a place like this?"

Orihime, rather concerned about the entire situation, stepped forward, "Sir, um, could you please not—"

"_Huh_?" Ichigo drawled dryly, keeping his eyes fiercely locked with the man standing in front of him. Neither seemed to be to listening to the thoroughly confused redhead.

"_Huh_?" The man replied, also refusing to break the eye-contact. Cupping Ichigo's strong jaw this time, he brought their faces closer, "Say somethin', you dandelion-head—"

If Orihime had blinked, she would've missed it. When Ichigo's fist swung and connected with the man's cheek, he literally sprung from the floor and landed _feet_ away. Yoruichi blatantly _watched_ as the man sailed over her head. Orihime squeaked, hurrying to back away from the two.

"Ichigo!" She fussed, "You shouldn't—"

"What the hell?!" The man was back up, cupping his hand over his tender cheek, "You pickin' a fight, bastard?!"

"That's my fuckin' line!" Ichigo hollered, the house literally _shaking_ from the force, "Just because you're _her_ damned brother doesn't mean I won't kick your ass, you boar-riding-ape-man!"

"WHAT'D YOU SAY!"

"YOU HEARD ME!"

"YOU RETARDED OR SOMETHIN'?!"

"NO, I AIN'T!"

"YOU KNOW MY FUCKIN' NAME, DAMMIT!"

"SO DON'T PRETEND YOU DON'T KNOW MINE!"

Orihime grasped onto the back of Ichigo's clothes, tugging him back with her soft strength, "Kurosa—_Ichigo_! Please, you mustn't fight with a guest when," —"I'LL KILL YOU, BASTARD!" — "we are guests ourselves!" Of course, Ichigo did not pay her any mind, hand reaching for his sword.

Swiftly, the unidentified man swept backwards, finally fixing his gaze on Orihime, "Who's the woman?" Orihime was quick to keep herself behind Ichigo's strong back. It seemed the two were destined for some kind of trouble every day, whether it be a complete stranger or someone Ichigo had somehow met in the past. Orihime was growing weary of the entire ordeal.

"None of your damn business, ape." Ichigo muttered venomously.

"May I ask why you broke into my home and interrupted out dinner, Ganju?" Yoruichi asked blankly. Again, Ganju was at her feet, bowing down to the purple-haired woman.

"Yoruichi-san! My sister! Please, I need help!"

Orihime listened closely.

Something flashed in Yoruichi's eyes and Ichigo was already sitting, his back turned to the group. Orihime felt something swirl in her stomach, soft yet threatening. Obviously, she was, again, left out of the group. She stared at Ichigo's tense back and heard the next words leaving Ganju's mouth.

"It's Senna."

Somehow, Orihime could tell something fell apart.

**…**

**…**

_The woman could not see. _

_She did not know where she was. _

_And yet she could not find herself to be scared. _

_"You wish. You hope." _

_She did not reply to the voice that loomed over her. She could imagine his cold brown eyes staring down at her. _

_"You hope for him to come, don't you?" _

_Her throat was too dry for her to answer, as much as she wished to set him in his place. _

_"Doesn't it hurt for your wishes to not come true, Masaki?" _

_Her eyes tightened at her given name, shuddering further into the corner. _

_He wrapped his slender fingers around a lock of matted, long hair, "I can help." _

_She wheezed. _

_His eyes narrowed and he smirked softly. _

_"Gin. Do it." _

_Inside, something called to her. _

**…**

**…**

**Did you like it? I hope you did. I'm getting pretty good with updating, aren't I? And the next chapter should be out by Wednesday or perhaps Tuesday night since I'm already half-way through. Sometimes, I worry if there is too much action in this story and then I tell myself, you guys love it anyway. **

**Please review. I love to know what you all think.**

**-Star**


	9. Chapter 9

**…**

**…**

Orihime did not raise her head.

Instead, she fidgeted her fingers into her yellow kimono, wrapping them and unwrapping them in the bright fabric. The clothes seemed silly now – it seemed so dark within the forest. Still, she did not voice her concerns.

_Ichigo_, her heart thudded at the name, _why're you like this?_

He expected her to leer, placing a hand on her head roughly or perhaps pinch her cheek and say with his deep voice, "Kitten," but he did not and she vaguely wondered why her chest felt so heavy. They sat in the carriage together, and she could hear the horses rushing against the debris and rotten vegetation, breaking through thick branches and over woodland creatures.

Cautiously, she raised her head and peeked at the quiet orange-haired man beside her. His aura had darkened tremendously after Ganju's warning. Apparently, the Shiba Clan had been raided recently, taking the many treasures of the eldest sister, Shiba Kukaku, and the youngest had been taken hostage, Senna. The message was if they did not hand over the legendary fortune buried within the Shiba Clan's house, Senna would be killed. She did not know any of these people and she was thoroughly confused when Ganju was finished – blubbering, she might add – his story. Yoruichi had rushed off, taking one of her horses, and left Ichigo and Orihime to the rest.

She had been shocked when Ichigo had grabbed up his sword and strapped it against his waist. She had called his name softly and that was when he headed towards the back where the servants were already preparing a carriage for the two. Now, Orihime had wished she hadn't come. Ichigo was as tense as a giant cat, eyes narrowed dangerously for some unknown kill, and she could practically feel the predatory waves coming off of him. But beneath that, she could also sense something that seemed to tear him apart.

_Ichigo_, she called again quietly, _who is Senna?_

Of course, she felt as though she asked, he wouldn't answer, but it wouldn't help to just allow her "friend" to wallow in whatever world he appeared to be trapped in. So, scooting closer to the man, she leaned towards him, trying to ignore the way his scent made her hyperaware of his presence.

"Ichigo," she called softly.

He did not reply to her voice.

She grew even more nervous with his silence, "Um, Ichigo?"

Again, nothing.

"…Kurosaki-san?" She almost flinched, prepared for the onslaught of her cheeks, but there was none. Her stomach felt strange now, as though there were something wishing to spring free. Timidly, she placed a hand on his forearm, and tugged on the material, "_Ichigo_."

Her breath caught when he caught her wrist, so very fast and rough that she felt her heart pause for a second before thrusting against her chest. He turned his head and she nearly shivered at the gaze. It was dark, a entrancing amber that made her afraid to look away if only for a second. His grip tightened around her wrist to the point of pain, but she was focused on his eyes, the way they narrowed sharply, as though the gorgeous brown wished to tell her something, something that he did not wish to shape into words.

She realized the grip on her wrist was pulling her closer and she welcomed the heat that radiated off of him.

_But…Senna…_

Her eyelashes fluttered. As she managed to regain power over her body, she pulled her wrist away gently, watching as his eyes flared and darkened. The moment – if anyone could call it that – shattered.

"Orihime," his voice was low. In the darkness of the carriage, it made her veins light with fire, alive and bright, "What's with that look? What the hell are you thinking about?"

She swallowed, her delicate throat moving with the movement, "Who…? Who is she?"

He pulled away from her. She stared up at him silently.

When he did not reply after a second's silence, she reached towards him again, "Ichigo, please—"

He retracted once again, "You wouldn't understand."

For some reason, her stomach curled with a foreign emotion. _Anger_. Is this what it felt like? Her nose wrinkled, but the words spat from her mouth.

"What is that supposed to mean?" She demanded sharply, "First, we meet a naked woman I know nothing about and next we're off to save some sort of captive clan member, Kurosaki-san. What're you not telling me? Are we not…" She trailed off at this, at her words as they drained over the short proximity between them, "Are we…"

His eyes burned, scorched their way through her, "It's not like that!"

She snapped right back, "Then what is it like?"

A hand ran through his messy, thick spikes, "We know fuckin' nothing about each other. I told you not to get attached, Orihime. What the hell do you want from me?"

Her heart shuddered away from the pain. It was not used to so much turmoil. Her voice softened, her eyes softened, _she_ softened underneath his words, "I…I don't know."

He paused, taking in her expression, watching as her chin lowered, and her gaze left his. _This_ frustrated him even more. What happened to Strawberrytopia and her damned silly, large smiles? Why was he _pretending_?

"Orihime—"

The carriage jerked to a stop.

Orihime gasped sharply and Ichigo grunted at the force. There was a shout, the sound of upset horses, and a jolt of the carriage. Somehow, through the darkness, Ichigo heard Orihime shriek and he caught her around the waist as the carriage tipped towards the right, sliding off whatever platform they had been crossing. One of the wheels dislodged from the side and tumbled down the steep hill. If it weren't for Orihime's frightened screams, Ichigo would've lost sighting on the true problem.

Orihime nearly choked when she felt arms grasp her hips familiarly and she was tugged over his shoulder. She dug her hands into his back, hanging on for dear life as gravity caught up with the two and the carriage fell completely off land. Ichigo was there though, and the door was kicked open, the air whirling her hair around wildly. Somehow, he caught onto the ledge, and Orihime clung to him like a lifeline. She screeched as she watched the carriage fall, along with the horses, falling into the deep forest below.

Ichigo grounded his teeth together, and lifted his body weight and Orihime's up the rock, his fingers cutting from the roughness. Quickly, he pushed Orihime up first, keeping a keen eye on her for her safety. Of course, she was fine, rather worried for him as she lifted the man with all her strength, yanking him from the side as well.

Both panted heavily as they rested their bodies. Orihime shivered from the dark forest and the deep cold. Wrapping her arms firmly around herself, she tried to stop her body's reaction for panic. She had no idea where they were and the village was at least miles and miles at away. There was no telling which way to venture towards or what to do.

_Ichigo's here._

Her large honeyed eyes shot up to him. That was true.

"Orihime," his voice was low, still a bit breathless, "Dammit, Orihime. Stay focused."

She blinked a few times and tried to calm down her erratic heart, "Kurosaki-san…"

"We need to get movin'. From what that ape said, they could be anywhere—"

_Click_.

"I guess yer a li'l late, eh, Shiba?" Something brushed against the back of Ichigo's head, but before he could even react, it slammed down, hard and blunt, and Ichigo could feel the blackness leaking into his vision.

Vaguely, he remembered Orihime opening her mouth to yell a warning, only for a hand to clamp over her face, muffling her protests and shrieks.

**…**

**…**

"Kurosaki-san!"

_She's calling for me._

"Kurosaki-san! Please!"

_Dammit. Get up._

"Kurosaki-san! Kurosaki-san!"

_Orihime_.

When his eyelids fluttered, the first thing he saw was her, red-gold framing her wet face, a cloth loosely around her throat, obviously something that had muffled her shouts, but she managed to escape from it. Her eyes were staring at him with a desperate plea, something that he wished to help her with.

Groaning softly, he lifted himself off the ground, and he noticed his hands were tied tightly behind his back, "_Fuck_." This was worse than drinking too much sake with Ikkaku.

Orihime's eyes lit up, "Kurosaki-san! Oh, thank goodness!" She was smiling now, despite the thick tears that stained her pink cheeks.

"I thought…" he managed to sit upright, "I told you to call me Ichigo."

She beamed, "I'm sorry."

He dragged his gaze, and saw they were still in the forest, deeper than before. There was a break in the vegetation here, a perfect circle that would be perfect for a hideout. They were situated there and it was rather dark, so it took Ichigo a moment to find the many men in the background, ranging from big to small. Squinting, he managed to see one positioned next to Orihime, much taller and stronger than her. He tried to move his numb, bleeding hands, but failed.

_Shit_.

"Oi," one drawled, the one a few inches from Orihime, "These ain't no Shiba." Without warning, he took a hold of her hair, the long thick hair that continued to hold Ichigo captive. Orihime pressed her lips tightly together, attempting to hold in the cry that wished to erupt from her throat. "See?" He held her face up, as though for any to look, "Da girl we wanted was taller and she had damn dark hair. Name's Kohaku or somethin'…"

Someone spat and it landed disgustingly on the ground. "Dey were da one's movin' around da mountains. Da only ones too."

Roughly, the man dropped Orihime and she fell to the ground with sharp yelp. From this position, Ichigo was able to see something shine dimly in the dark from her hands. A small smirk worked onto his face and Orihime managed to pull herself up a bit, lying on her side.

_Good girl._

"So what da hell we do wit 'em now?" Another questioned, closer to Ichigo, "We already got da other Shiba."

There was another sharp shout and Ichigo's heart paused. He turned his head a bit and spotted the shadow struggling to get away from the grip of a trooper.

_Senna._

Orihime tore her dagger right through the rope in her hands. Keeping her wrists behind her back obediently, she was sure to sit up carefully, remaining her eyes forward. Her head was still thumping from the earlier abuse and her body ached from nearly toppling off the side of the hill, but other than that, she was fine. Raising her gaze to Ichigo's again, she was startled when the burning eyes were not on her.

"Kurosaki…san?" She followed his gaze and saw the figure in someone's arms, bouncing around, hoping to be freed, and her eyes flashed. She watched as Ichigo lurched towards the figure and yelled,

_"Senna!" _

Funny. That's usually how he called Orihime's name.

Her heart thudded against her chest, quick and wet, and her throat felt drier than any desert. Ichigo was desperately struggling now, wishing for his hands to be freed and Orihime was watching as he stared at the supposed Senna, who was bounded as well and had a sack over her head, covering her face.

_Ichigo_, she whispered in her head once more, _who is Senna?_ Her skin felt cold, as though it no longer had the warmth of him.

"Guess we kill 'em all," someone suggested and she heard a person's footsteps heading towards her, "If they don't come, then it's damn death."

Orihime's eyes narrowed. Just as she heard the sound of slicing metal, she broke from the cut ties and stumbled to her feet. It was much clumsier than she had thought out, but she managed to throw the dagger towards Ichigo. His attention had snapped back to her when he heard the commotion and Orihime met his eyes. Somehow, as the dagger skidded across the ground, Ichigo clamped his teeth down onto the blade and as the trooper behind him came charging, Ichigo braced his shoulder against the ground and sprung his foot forth, knocking the man directly in the jaw, sending him tumbling on the ground.

Ichigo maneuvered to his feet as the others grew wary, revealing their weapons as well, one even possessing a gun that had been used to knock Ichigo out cold. His eyes narrowed as he spat out the dagger, but found it impossible to reach his numb hands.

As the first time they'd ever worked as a team, he glanced at Orihime over his shoulder and watched as she stared back with her wide eyes.

"Let me go, would you, Kitten?"

Orihime ducked in time for a fist to sail over her head and quickly dodged out of the way of a whirling chain that would've clamped around her waist. When she made it to Ichigo, she wasted no time in taking the dagger and slicing straight through the bonds. Three men charged at the two, roaring out their battle cries as Orihime began to panic. Quickly, Ichigo yanked his own sword from its sheathe and Orihime heard the distinct sword of his blade piercing flesh.

Ichigo yanked his sword from the man's body, kicking the bloody form away and whirled around in time for his blade to slice through another's throat. Orihime nearly yelped in surprise when one snuck up behind her, taking a hold of her long tresses and wrapping an arm around her waist.

Ichigo cursed.

But that was also the moment another man grabbed up Senna and twisted her body around. The entire predicament was bordering on unbearable.

Orihime struggled, kicking and clawing. The dagger began to slip from her fingers and she managed to get a good grip on it and sunk the blade straight into his arm, just when Ichigo made his choice and zipped forward, a flash of black and orange, and sliced directly through the man's right shoulder. The man howled and Orihime fell from the overwhelming embrace.

"I-Ichigo…" She whimpered. There was _blood_ on her hands. Ichigo sneered up his lip.

"Don't quit on me now, dammit," he hissed, grasping one of her shoulders, "Orihime."

Yet, she was not paying attention to him. Slowly, her gaze slid upwards and watched as a trooper wrapped around Senna, latching onto her throat, and there was a shout of surprise. Orihime was up before she knew it. Ichigo called her name and there was a split second that she thought she would've regretted this, but by time that passed over, she had already knocked into the trooper and they tumbled onto the ground together.

Senna rolled away, stumbling on her bound feet, her face still covered by the sack. Ichigo caught the back of her dark kimono in time, glancing at Orihime to see she was struggling to sit up. As his mind rushed through the ways to get to her, his body worked on its own and yanked the sack off the face he'd been wishing to see for years…

…or _not_.

Ichigo _blinked_.

The men around them blinked and paused. One even scratched their head and saying, "Eh?"

The face was familiar, but definitely not the face he'd hoped for.

Ichigo blinked again. Nope. The face was still the same. Suddenly, he snapped,

"ISHIDA?!"

The man in question grimaced, his face dirty and covered in sweat, "Kurosaki…?"

"Hol' on…" One man grumbled from behind them, "That ain't no girl, idiots! Ya picked up the wrong person!"

Some muttered under their breaths while others grimaced deeply.

"But ya said dark hair…"

"AND A GIRL, BASTARDS!"

Instantly, Ichigo let go of his _enemy_. Ishida was panting, and bleeding in his right side, but other than that, he seemed fine. He was glowering at Kurosaki as well, the electricity charging between the two sharply.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ichigo drawled spitefully.

Ishida's eyes narrowed, "I should be asking you the same question. Are you the reason I am here tonight, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo glowered at him. "What the fuck do you mean by that?"

"I was suddenly ambushed as I was walking from the Shiba Clan's base. Are you planning to kill me? This is a new low, even for you,"

A vein throbbed in Ichigo's temple. "What the hell did you just say?!"

But Ishida's gaze was distracted. He found the red-orange hair and the bundle of pale skin and smiles almost instantly, "Orihime-san!"

Orihime glanced over her shoulder curiously, standing over the unconscious fellow, "O-Oh! Ishida-kun, what're you doing here?" She waved an exuberant hand over her head.

A small smile weaseled onto his lips. But before he could answer, he watched as the man who Orihime had tackled stood, looming over her small form. Ichigo's head snapped around, "Orihime!"

She blinked, but was far too late to scurry away. "Bitch! I'll fuckin' kill ya!" Ichigo called her name again, already rushing towards the scene that was too far away to reach with all the other troopers in the way. Uryu, instead, searched.

Ichigo watched in complete horror as the man tackled Orihime's lighter body to the ground and his large hands clamped around her throat. Orihime gasped, her body struggling for the liberation of air, and the man over her grinned widely. Ichigo's chest erupted, as though it were unable to watch such a sight. Just a moment ago, he'd almost went mad over the woman who'd he first fell in love with and now he wasn't even fucking able to get to Orihime.

Ichigo nearly got beheaded if he hadn't dodged out of the way in time. He glanced at Orihime as a sword met his fiercely. Orihime was clawing at the hands around her neck, and her wiggling became weaker, and he swore he saw his name form from her plush lips.

There was a sharp whistle through the air and a wet, blunt sound. Ichigo blinked once more. The man on top of Orihime paused and turned enough for Ichigo to see the arrow sticking from his chest.

Orihime gasped and panted, hurrying to rush air back in to her lungs as the man above her toppled to the side, the blood seeping from his chest. Ichigo vaguely saw Ishida firing off bows like bullets, and apart of him did not wish to know how he had obtained such a dangerous weapon. As the opponent in front of him fell to the ground, Ichigo rushed towards Orihime, as she coughed and breathed in raggedly.

_I'm coming. _

His legs couldn't get there fast enough and even though his entire body was trembling from the weight of fatigue, he wasn't going to stop. Somehow, he reached her side, she was already rushing to get to him as well on her knees. His legs gave out and he fell to his knees a few inches away.

"Ichigo!" She grasped onto his arm tightly with her small hands. He nearly growled, spitting curses at her. In return, she beamed her silly, beautiful smile at him, "I'm fine."

"I ain't even ask that yet," He huffed, panting and she blinked.

"But you were going to," she said innocently. When there was another sharp sound of arrows being fired, Orihime glanced up and a sliver of relief was in her large eyes. The darkness tugged on his consciousness, but she remained upright, somehow, someway, "Kurosaki-san, we have to leave…!" Suddenly, she gasped, "You're bleeding!"

And that was when the pain erupted from within his body. It burned deeply, down from his head to his toes and his body teetered, eyesight blurring heavily. Orihime was tugging on his arm and he heard something else that she said, except it did not register fully.

_Damn. Someone got me. _

And he hadn't even noticed it. But that seemed natural now. Before, you could never catch Kurosaki Ichigo unless you were either Rukia or Yoruichi. But with Orihime, everything seemed to blur and twirl out of control in his world. Slowly, he felt the darkness overwhelm him as Orihime let out a desperate cry.

_"Ichigo!" _

**…**

**…**

_Damn_.

It was _too_ bright.

Ichigo groaned loudly, breaking through the silence.

The redheaded woman beside him jerked in surprise and quickly slid her hand from his. His fingers twitched automatically from the loss of warmth, but she was quick to move back a bit.

"Is the idiot waking up?"

"Yoruichi-san!" Orihime scolded the woman, who grinned in reply, "I-I think so…" Orihime watched closely as the eyelids fluttered and peeled backwards. The amber, confused gaze fixed onto the ceiling and his firm lips parted. "Kurosaki-san…?" She leaned forward, her long hair brushing the floor, and watched as he squirmed in his futon, breathing in deeply.

And then he shot up.

Orihime squeaked, flinching backward, nearly toppling over.

"DAMMIT, ISHIDA! YOU GOTTA MAKE SUCH A ASS OUTTA ME?!" Ichigo roared furiously, glaring straight at the wall in front of him, furthest away from him. Orihime blinked and Ishida, who sat a few feet from the redheaded woman, inched a hand towards his bow. Orihime watched as Ichigo blinked a few times rapidly before coming to his senses – he hunched over, body shuddering violently as he placed a hand on his bandaged abdomen. The blood was already starting to soak through the white from his stomach and Orihime gasped, lurching toward him.

"Ichigo, you can't move so much!" She insisted anxiously. Her hand found his shoulder and the muscles rippled powerfully. She had seen Ichigo shirtless only once, but this was so much better. Under the bandages, you could detect the strength of a warrior, someone who'd gone through Hell and back. Every sweet contour and sun-bronzed delirious skin had her clenching her hands into fists, and removed her palm from his scorching skin. "Y-You'll open your wounds…"

Uryu slanted her a glance at her soft tone and watched as her hands curled into her kimono.

"What the hell…?" Ichigo glanced around and his eyes landed directly on Ishida, "The fuck is he doing here?"

Uryu's eyes narrowed into slits, "Certainly not for you, Kurosaki. I am merely support for Orihime-san."

Orihime nodded along, "I asked him to stay, at least until you woke up. H-He hasn't even tried to attack you in your sleep."

Ishida crossed his arms over his chest.

"Because he's an honorable bastard," Ichigo remarked, "I'll kill him myself."

"Kurosaki-san!" Orihime reprimanded, "He helped a lot when we were in trouble. You could at least thank him!"

"Tch," The orange-haired scoffed, removing his hand from his bleeding stomach. "He was the disappointment of the entire thing."

Yoruichi's eyes tightened at Ichigo's tone and slid over to Orihime. She watched as the redhead's lids lowered over large honey eyes, and her knuckles turned white as she gripped her kimono even tighter. Suddenly, she was up, startling Uryu and Ichigo.

"I'll get fresher water," She took the bucket quickly and walked out of the room. Ichigo's eyebrows came together and he made to stand and follow her, but Yoruichi quickly placed a hand on his shoulder, shoving him back down.

"Stay where you are so I can redo your wounds."

"But—"

"You're an imbecile, Kurosaki," Ishida sighed.

"WHAT'D YOU SAY—OH! FUCK! IT HURTS!"

**…**

**…**

_Orihime was panicking. _

_The blood had been so thick pulsing from Ichigo's stomach. Uryu had been there, clasping a hand over her shoulder for a sign of comfort while Yoruichi was quick to push both of them out of the way and start the procedure. _

_By early morning, Orihime was more or less falling into unconsciousness. Uryu was entranced in his book, and Yoruichi came from the room a few hours later. Orihime was up before anyone else knew it. _

_"Is he alright?" She asked at least a dozen times, "He's not hurt anymore, is he?" _

_Yoruichi narrowed her golden eyes at the girl, "We need to talk." Without waiting for Orihime to agree, she took a hold of the girl's arm and tugged her out of the home and into the cool air. When she released her, Orihime was already taking a few steps back apprehensively. "I'm not gonna hurt you," Yoruichi drawled, crooking up a dark eyebrow. _

_"…Oh." Was Orihime's only reply, and she bunched her hands by her sides. _

_"What're you doing?" The question was sharp and short, cutting the frigid wind and causing Orihime to jerk, startled. _

_"Pardon me—"_

_"I'm not an idiot," Yoruichi said softly, "I know _who_ you are." _

_Ice ran through her veins the next second and she stumbled another step back._

_"Don't run on me," Yoruichi continued, "I just want to know what you are doing with Ichigo." _

_Orihime averted her gaze sideward, "I…It has nothing to do with you." _

_The brow crept closer up to her bangs, "Are you sure about that? Then let me ask you this: Why're you endangering Ichigo's life with yours?" _

_Orihime's eyes shot back up, hardening, "I'm not—"_

_"Whatever you are after can't be good. You left the palace, your duties as a Princess behind. Right now, you are defenseless, and if I wanted to, I could behead the next league of Japan," Her voice was low, deadly, but Orihime stood completely still, "Trust me. I've done much worse. I love Ichigo as a brother, as my own son, and I promised his mother a long time ago that I would take care of him. I intend to keep that promise." _

_"You do not know—"_

_"You've grown attached to him, I know that," Yoruichi insisted, her voice gentler than before, "I know that he has remaining feelings for Senna and I know he was disappointed that it wasn't her. If you are continuing to accompany him because of your feelings then you need to think harder. I'm sure your mother is also searching for you, not to mention guards that'll start snuffing you out. Would that not be even a worst predicament for Ichigo?" _

_Orihime's heart felt like it would burst out of chest, and her hands curled, nails digging into her palms. _

_"…I…" Orihime swallowed thickly, but it felt like glass sliding down her throat. _

_"You need to decide where this ends, Inoue-_sama_," Yoruichi bowed respectively to the redhead before turning and treading back into her home. _

_The world began to slow. Orihime seemed as unbalanced as the earth itself. Her knees gave out and she slid to the ground, unable to hold the tears from breaking through the dam. _

Onii-chan, what do I do?

**…**

**…**

Ichigo stared up at the ceiling.

_How long are they gonna keep me in this hellhole? _

Apparently, he'd lost consciousness in the middle of everything and Yoruichi had arrived before he could bleed out. Luckily, she'd brought her own set of horses and members of the Shiba Clan. Now, Ichigo could've been the laughingstock at the home base. It was bad enough he had fainted during the ruffle, but to be saved by Yoruichi was the _worst_. He hadn't been saved by anyone since he was a child, a teenager, and he had promised himself he could get by with himself and his sword. But now look at him – resting in Yoruichi's home, stomach bandaged up, a deep gash in his side, and Uryu in the next room. His fists clenched at the thought.

_Fuck. I wanna kill him._

Huffing heavily, he decided he would wait until he could move again. The best he could do at the moment was sit up. If he tried to stand, the pain in his side would become unbearable. And he didn't want Yoruichi choking him while trying to wrap him in bandages. He'd been in the damned home for at least two days, waiting for the moment he could just continue on with his life. Uryu was probably mocking him right now.

_And Orihime…_

His eyes darkened at her name and his fists went limp.

She hadn't been in the room either – except when he'd first woken up. She had been there, fretting over his injuries, wide eyes anxious. He'd wanted to raise his arm and wipe away the worry line between his eyebrows. It was nice to see her face besides the overwhelming darkness. The more time she was away, the more he became agitated. He asked Yoruichi and she would always have this look in her eye before she shrugged and went back to tending him. It was becoming frustrating.

Of course, everything about Orihime was frustrating. She said little yet a lot. She was like the sun, something you wanted to rotate around just to get a bit of its warmth. Something that Ichigo became addicted to almost instantly. She would smile that silly, beautiful smile and call him '_Kurosaki-san_' and twirl and allow her long, auburn hair to fall down her back. There was something intoxicating about her, something that had him staying by her side to complete this journey and find this random-ass stranger. Ichigo had never had a problem resisting a woman – usually it was the other way around. But still, she kept him awake at night, staring at her, trying to detect what had him so enthralled. He'd never felt this way.

_Except Senna. _

His fists clenched again. He tried to think of why he had been so disappointed when the sack had revealed that _prick_ Ishida, but found nothing. He was over Senna, he _had_ to be, she'd left him in the dirt, chasing after her wind, just like everything that had been crushed under his world. But, just as Orihime, she was exciting, intoxicating, captivating.

Were the two alike? Fuck no. While Senna was slender and petite, Orihime had the exact curves that Kami-sama would've wished for. Senna was always rude to people, speaking when she felt the need, while Orihime smiled at everyone and held her tongue when the time wasn't right. It was as though two different worlds – darkness and brightness. Grinding his teeth together, he tried to piece together his confusing mind. All of it was too puzzling to even think through. He felt like a clumsy teenager fooling around for the first time.

_Fuck. _

So, _dammit_, why did it hurt when Orihime wasn't there – even more than when Senna rejected him? When she averted her gaze when she lied, or how she bit her bottom lip and he wished to tug it away with his own lips? Or how she stared up at him with her large, trustworthy eyes and shed tears for things he wished to feel? How did her hands feel so soft and good against his skin when his body had been through years of abuse? None of it made fuckin' sense.

Why did he feel that way? What did she feel? How was this even _possible_?

"Eep!"

A squeak and a low thump from outside his room broke him from his thoughts. Ichigo glanced at the door, scowling menacingly, and sighed when he didn't hear anything else.

"I know you're out there, Kitten."

Another yelp and a shuffle of feet. It was silent again before she said hesitantly, "S-Sorry."

He nearly leapt across the room and pried open the door, but instead, clenched his jaw, "Come in."

"But—"

"I'll come and get you if you don't." His tone was dark and full of promises.

Slowly, the door slid towards to the left to reveal Orihime. She appeared as radiant as ever, but her eyes were darting across the floor, refusing to meet his gaze. Slowly, she walked into the room, carrying a bucket of cool water. When she reached his side, he sat up, shoving off the blankets and she _worried_.

"D-Don't! You don't have to strain yourself for my sake, Kurosaki-san!" She insisted, but he glowered at her and she was quick to shut her mouth.

"I'll do what I want," he said simply, "It's better if I move anyway. I wanna be outta here and on the trails as soon as possible." He wanted her to raise her eyes, lock gazes with him, let him know that she was _alright_. "Besides, we have to find that random fuckin' guy you're searching for and then—"

"Kurosaki-san," her voice was quiet, low, but he heard her. She stared down at her hands, which were bunched in her kimono, "I…" She hesitated.

Ichigo's glare sharpened, "Spit it out."

"I-I don't think we should continue to travel together," she murmured.

He stared down at her. She stared down at her hands. It was quiet.

When he spoke again, it sounded like he'd been swallowing stones, "What'd you mean?"

She shifted uncomfortably, "It was rash and irresponsible of me to leave home and search out something that wasn't completely clear to me. It was just some promise I made a very long time ago. I think now…" She swallowed, "it would be best if we went our separate ways."

He felt the change in the air, the tense silence that made his stomach curl. But there was something else there, something _violent_ and tight balling in his chest. It was anger. No. Fuck that. It was _fury_. He could feel his muscles bunching together and his fists clenched even tighter than before. When he managed to talk, it was only one word,

"No."

It was surprisingly simple for all the other shit running through his head, and calm at that. He felt like a wild beast preying on her. Somehow, she'd became a drug to him, strapped him down and prepared him for another dose. She wasn't going to be taken away just like that.

Orihime's head shot up, and their eyes locked, if only for a moment, "W-What?"

"I said fuckin' no," he spat venomously, "We're not done yet."

Orihime flinched back at his tone and looked away from him again. That angered him even more, "B-But now you can go back to your men and everything can go back to how it was."

"You think I want that?" He hissed. He watched as she steeled herself, her nose wrinkling cutely.

"You seemed perfectly fine with it a few days ago," She said softly.

"The hell are you talkin' about?"

"Senna!" It escaped her mouth with such intensity he felt off-balance for a moment, but she did not stop, "You thought Ishida-kun was Senna and you nearly risked your life just to get to her! That's the only reason we ventured all the way to the center, just to retrieve her!"

Ichigo's eyes narrowed into slits, "I have a feeling you're accusing me for something."

"I am!" She snapped right back, "You still love her."

"What the fuck does that have to do with anything?" He shot back, "Why do you even care?"

She cringed again, and her fists balled so tight that her knuckles turned white, "…It does not matter anymore. I should go," Somehow, she managed to start upward with her shaky legs. Ichigo's hand shot out, taking a hold of the thin wrist and he yanked her back towards him.

His eyes burned into hers as she tried to regain herself, "We're not done."

Her gaze lit up, "I am. L-Let me go." She tugged at her wrist, but he did not let go.

"You're not leaving," he breathed hotly. He hadn't realized how close she was until her scent caught onto his senses. Enough to make him loose control, if only for a second. Her plush lips parted and she peered up at him with those large, honeyed eyes.

He hadn't planned on kissing on her. It just _happened_.

Orihime's eyes sprang wider than before as Ichigo's other hand grasped around the back of her neck, fine red-gold strands catching into his fingers, and he pulled her forward, his lips meeting hers almost violently.

The effect was instantaneous. There was the heat and the taste and the pure _feeling_ of him this close and so very overpowering. Orihime, somehow, someway, found herself twisting away, pressing her free hand to push him away. When they parted, Ichigo panted, as though he'd ran three straight miles.

The look in his eyes had her burning, the way they dragged over her heated face, the way they darkened and flashed, a scorching amber that made her stomach turn around.

She found her voice – she knew it was in there somewhere, "W-What're you doing—"

"Again," he breathed hotly, his breath touching her lips and then his own covered them. Once more, Orihime was shocked at the intensity of his touch, the tightening of his fingers around the back of her neck, and the way she tried to escape it, just to think.

But Ichigo wasn't going to wait that long. He kissed her harder as she tried to twist away. Bunching a hand in her thick locks, he slanted his mouth over hers, creating delicious sparks down her mouth and jaw, and stirred something deep inside of her. She could hear the little sounds she made, sounds she'd never made before, but they slipped forward as though it was natural. He growled harshly against her lips and released her wrist to grasp the curve of her right hip and she shuddered.

She tried to slow things down, tried to remember how she got to this moment, when she'd planned on saying goodbye. Now, everything was spiraling out of control – she was allowing her body and heart to show exactly what she'd been feeling since she first laid eyes on the man. She could not rein control – she was making noises and dragging her hands up his naked chest, up his shoulders, forgetting about his wounds, forgetting about the world and her duties as he brought her closer.

Somehow, he had slipped into her, biting down on her lower lip harshly, and she gasped. He delved in, taking her surprise for granted as his tongue found hers, intertwining deliciously, and tingles ran up her spine. Her nails dug into his shoulders, towards his back, making red welts. Ichigo growled again, hauling her closer, flush against his body as she cried out against his lips. His hand splayed across her back before finding her bottom and squeezing the flesh there, as though to bring her even closer, if that was possible. He kept a hard grip on her hair, refusing to allow her to leave, not even for a second as his tongue followed hers and her nails dug in even harder.

"Fuck, Kitten," he hissed, breaking away for a second to pull in a gasp of air. He didn't dive for her mouth this time – he wanted to taste even more. Licking down her jaw, he found her delicate neck, placing open-mouthed kisses on the pale skin. Orihime whimpered, wishing to be closer but much farther away. She'd become addicted to _this_, to _him_, she could tell.

_D-Don't…_

It was as though lightning struck her when his hips met hers. She reeled at the feeling, finding it much more pleasurable than she'd thought it would be. And it burned, it stung to know she wouldn't be able to find anything better than this. Than Ichigo.

"Stop…" Somehow the word forced itself from her throat and she scrambled backwards, her elbow accidently hitting him in the ribs. Ichigo hissed through his teeth at the pain. Gripping his bandaged stomach, he glared at her through the locks of orange hair, his muscles tight, as though to pounce her.

"Get back here," he ordered, his tone dark and much more huskier than it was before. Another shiver wracked up her spine.

Quickly – using his injury as a sign of help – she stood on weak knees. She nearly fell twice, but she managed to stay close to the wall, his hard, chocolate eyes watching her. The world was beginning to come back in little spots and thundered down at her thoroughly.

"Don't you fuckin' dare, Kitten," he nearly snarled. He made to stand, but jerked when the pain erupted once more, "_Shit_."

Orihime turned away, pushing the door to the side, and scurried out. For once, she was truly grateful for Ichigo's wound.

Ichigo's eyes watched her go, something he never knew he _didn't_ want to see.

_"Orihime!" _

Yoruichi sat on the porch and blinked when a flash of amber and yellow raced past her. Sighing heavily, she leaned back on the wood.

"This crap is gonna make me get gray hairs," She groused as she listened to Ichigo shout.

**…**

**…**

**Did you like it? I was so excited for this chapter. Finally, the stories starting, right? I actually like Yoruichi in this story, she's more than just a side character to me and Urahara, can't forget him. And don't worry, Orihime is not going anywhere. You didn't think I would just let her up and leave, did you? I'm not that heartless.**

**Please review. I would like to know what you think. Thanks for reading.**

**-Star**


	10. Chapter 10

**…**

**…**

Ishida let out a deep sigh.

He could _not_ believe he was here. He supposed Kami-sama was out to punish him. That sounded reasonable, due to everyone he'd murdered, but he certainly hoped it wasn't time for this _now_. He was raised just by his grandfather and not much else. He was trained to be a warrior, fight in battles, save people, but after watching his mother leave, never meeting his father, and allowing his grandfather to slip away before his eyes, he never really gave much thought in the hero place. And so he traveled, he left memories behind, and he found another way to continue on with his life.

Ishida Uryu was a very rational man, always gave people the option of their fate, always was patient when it came to tracking prey, and due to this, he had become an honorable warrior.

When he'd met Kurosaki Ichigo, everything had gone downhill. He despised his disgusting attitude, his cocky grin, his dark aura and personality, and especially that mop of abnormal orange hair. Honestly, he had no idea how the imbecile had survived all this time, with all the enemies he'd made and the number of times he refused to abide by the rules or laws. For some odd reason, they'd been on each other as soon as their eyes met and Ishida had yanked out his bow while Kurosaki decided to place his blade an inch from his face. True, Ichigo was very good with agility and his speed, but Uryu was definitely superior in his own skills. The fire between them could never be squashed, though Ishida had long forgotten why and how they even began to loathe each other. And now, with Kurosaki in the next room, he wished to slit his throat, cut off his limbs, maybe if get in a punch or two.

But, dammit, what about Orihime-san?

Still, he could not believe she was with _him_. It just didn't make sense with her being such an angelic figure – so very new in Uryu's world. Her bright smiles that were untainted by this God forsaken world or her delicate disposition that anyone wished to protect from one glance at the shining redhead. And he had wondered, ever since he'd seen her with Kurosaki, just what was there that made her stay? That made her follow him and him her? After meeting her, Ishida could already find himself fiercely protective of the small redhead. He knew she was very naïve yet quick on her feet. She was kindhearted, sparing his life when Ichigo was ready to end it, and stuck up for the orange-haired when he was also about to meet his demise. He did not understand their relationship. Hell, he didn't understand _her_.

How could she stand to be around that _damn_ mutt? He was dreadful company, he was sure. Yet when he asked her on the way back to Yoruichi-san's home, she'd smiled softly and replied,

_"Kurosaki-san makes me a better person, even if he doesn't realize it." _

Another thing he could not comprehend. Was she _serious_? She couldn't possibly be, could she? But she had to. After all, she'd followed Kurosaki all the way out to the middle of the woods to save this supposed Shiba Clan family member. _Senna_ was the entire reason he was there, and he hoped he never ran into the woman, because there would be hell to pay.

His eyes narrowed.

When he'd asked about Senna, Orihime had been quiet. Her smile vanished and he watched as she withered beneath the name. She wasn't going to answer such a question. Yoruichi, sensing this also, told Uryu who she was, why he was there, and the reason she was so important to Kurosaki.

Love? Heh. As if that _idiot_ could ever comprehend such a thing. And as he'd glanced over at Orihime-san, he watched as her lids became heavy and her shoulders hunched inwards, as though to cover herself from physical jabs. And he could see _it_ in her eyes whenever this subject was mentioned.

Orihime-san was _hurt_.

And why did it have to be over that _revolting_ yakuza bastard Kurosaki? She was so much better than him, could go far places, marry someone that would cherish her. And this just made him want to dissect Kurosaki even more. Because he knew, if anything happened between the two, Orihime-san would be _hurt_ again – Kurosaki would use her, break her into a thousand pieces, and she would _hurt_ herself even more.

Uryu's eyes flickered up from his book and onto the arrows leaning against the wall, just a couple feet away from him. He could kill Kurosaki, but what will that do? Just upset Orihime even more, and possibly himself if he got blood on his clothes. Clothing was expensive, you know.

Sighing heavily, he returned his attention to the pages in front of him. He was being irrational, he knew that. And all over a _woman_, too. He'd learned his lesson long ago. He was at knowledge that she was protective of this girl, very much so, and she was alluring, but that did not give him a reason to butt into her affairs with other people. If he did that, he would be no better than Kurosaki or perhaps a whining brat. Besides, he wasn't any better either. He'd had his own affairs with women, though, unlike Kurosaki, he did not leave them rotting in their own despair. He found himself letting them go, allowing them to either follow or continue with their lives. They always chose the latter, finding his life too complicated and gory for their hearts and/or stomach to take. That was fine, because he was not changing any time soon, and that included dealing with Orihime-san. Working out his feelings wouldn't be very enjoyable, but it would get his mind off of certain matters.

He was loyal to Orihime-san, he realized. He did not wish to leave her side, he protected her, and wished to see her happy, whether it be with some fine gent or _that_ bastard. He also softened around her, wishing to see a smile so that it would take off the unbearable weight on his shoulders. He wasn't completely heartless when it came to her. It was odd, he'd never felt like this before, never wanted to protect someone so passionately before.

Again, he huffed irritably and nudged his glasses up his narrow nose. Frustratingly, he realized his thoughts were going in circles and nonsense. Clearly, it wasn't the time for all this.

And then he heard the dark, heated call of, _"Orihime!"_

Uryu's head shot up, and his hand was on the hilt of his thin sword almost automatically. He listened keenly, the book still within one hand, and his glasses flashing sharply on his face. There was the sound of clumsy, rushed feet and Ishida watched in complete shock as a flash of orange-red hair flew past him and vanished out of the door.

He was up the next second, rather confused over the turn of events. Quickly, he hurried towards the open door and watched as Orihime ran down the steps, stumbled past the small chickens, and past the river bank. She was continuing much farther than that, past the shrubs and then into the beginnings of the forest.

"Orihime-san!" He shouted after her.

Without warning, Yoruichi was suddenly up and her foot struck upwards high and right into the center of Uryu's chest. Ishida fell to the ground with a shout of surprise. Hoisting himself up on his elbows, he barked at her,

"What exactly was that for?"

She regarded him lazily with her golden orbs, "My bad. Right now, I'm not in the mood for your dramatics."

He sputtered, growing frustrated rather quickly with her, "D-Dramatics? Yoruichi-san—"

Her foot planted again. This time in his _face_.

Yoruichi yawned, "I don't get it. I would've thought she'd at least say goodbye to him…" She mumbled to herself, glancing towards where Orihime ran off to, "Poor, little Princess…"

Ishida grasped onto her slim, bare calf with both hands and shoved her naked foot from his face. Rising to a sitting position, he tried to keep his anger under wraps, "What the he—"

"You're becoming rather annoying," she admonished, as though she were shocked by this new detail. Ishida met to snap back at her, only for Yoruichi to hum underneath her breath, "You might be one of those types…" She began to untie the slash around her hips.

"What are you talking about…" Ishida's inquiry slowly trailed off as he was suddenly staring at _that_.

The purple-haired woman smirked coyly at his expression, continuing to hold up the front of her skirt, giving him a full view of the naked, _inappropriate_ skin underneath. "Like what you see, young man?"

Ishida broke from his daze and was quick to skid backward. "W-W-What the—"

She cocked her head to the side, "What's wrong? Are you a virgin? You're rather flustered. Much more than I originally thought you'd be."

Quickly, he placed a hand in front of him, thoroughly blocking off his unblinking view of her womanhood. "For God's sake, would you c-cover yourself?!" He tried to ignore the way her stumbled over his words and the hot blush in his cheeks, "It is not appropriate for a young lady to present herself in such a manner—"

"My, my. You sure are noble for an assassin. Or is it just a murderer? You're not paid for jobs, right, Uryu-chan?" She teased lightly, keeping her grip tight on her skirt. The breeze felt good on her nether regions.

He snapped right back at her, "Yoruichi-san, I am not in the mood for your games! Orihime-san is—"

Yoruichi released her hold on her skirt, allowing it to fall onto her slender legs again. "None of your business, Uryu-chan. You should just stay here and daydream about me."

His cheeks felt like they were on fire, "I'll do no such thing!"

She rolled her yellow eyes, but then averted her attention to the open door just a few feet away.

_Moron. You might've just screwed up your last chance. _

**…**

**…**

Get away.

_Where?_

Just go.

_How?_

Run faster!

_Why?_

Her lungs were beginning to burn and her legs felt like they would give at any moment. Yet she did not stop running, her long hair whipping around her, and gasping for air. Why was it that her body wished to turn around and find the person who made her feel this way? Dark, smoldering brown eyes that stared at you behind orange locks, long, strong body that was morphed by war and dark past, menacing scowls and a lewd tongue.

Orihime shrieked when the ground left her feet and she was suddenly on the ground. Carefully, she sat up, trying to regain her bearings. When she blinked a few times, she was rather surprised to see droplets hit the ground, her lap, and her hands.

"I…I'm crying…" She murmured, watching as the droplets became fatter and wetter. Her cheeks felt wet and the cool breeze felt like a slap across the face. The pace of the tears increased and soon she could hear the sound of her own sobbing. It was keen, loud, and terrifying. She had never thought of herself as an upset person – she was always bright, staying optimistic, offering a smile to people who seemed down. But as she listened to herself weep, she heard the pain, the agony of someone who refused to let _it_ go. And it hurt, a lot, more than she would like to admit.

The kiss had been more than she expected. Instead of leaving her elated and glowing, she could feel herself breaking down from the emotional chaos. Her world spun, turning in a different direction than before. She hadn't wanted any ties to anyone outside of the Kingdom, she wanted to keep herself neutral, but she could not help but be pulled into the wave of Ichigo. Her heart, it _hurt_, her head, it _rung_.

_O-Onii-chan…w-what do I do?_

Why wasn't he answering her? Why wasn't he helping her in this desperate time of need? Why wasn't he there like he'd claimed he would be? What was she supposed to do? Return home? Go to the palace and marry Ulquiorra-sama until all was well and she forgot about Kurosaki-san and all the others? She knew that was the impossible. As if she'd be able to forget him, turn away from him, leave him behind.

_Impossible_.

She tried to still the tears, push them back to where they belonged – a locked closet in the back of her head. But they continued, pooling heavily in her eyes and falling from her eyes. Quickly, she wiped her small hands roughly against her cheeks, her eyelids, and waited for the sound of her own whimpering to calm.

Carefully, she licked her lips and tried to ignore the residue taste of pure _Ichigo_. Her eyes stung again. Was she crying because it would be hard to leave him or perhaps because she was disgusted with herself? She allowed her guard to fall, if only for a second, and succumbed to the kiss faster than someone could blink their eye. He had been hungry, rough, but she'd matched his pleasure head-on and had been just as desperate for contact as he was. Now her stomach was in knots, and her legs felt weak, her hands shaking in front of her eyes.

She should leave. Leave this all behind, forget about the journey, forget about her promise, forget about _Ichigo_.

Her heart throbbed at the thought.

Leaving would be painful. It would hurt her, destroy her. She hadn't realized it before, she'd never given the feelings inside of her much thought. But now, as she tried to work through her mind, she found all the moments Ichigo and her had shared together – all the lingering stares, all the small smiles, all the brushing touches, and all the tiny moments that made her heart race. She was foolish, so stupid to allow herself to fall farther and farther away from her goal. She'd become sidetracked, allowed herself to give up and take what was in front of her.

Now she could see it was too late to catch herself. She was already _falling_.

The tears pooled again and fell.

As she glanced up and saw the sun begin to set and the orange sink over her, she took in a deep, shuddering breath.

_"P-Please, Onii-chan, give me strength…" _

As she prayed to Kami-sama, her brother, whoever was listening, she did not sense the skinny man standing a few feet away, slit-eyes staring at her coyly, and his hands curled limply.

**…**

**…**

Nonchalantly, Yoruichi pushed back a heavy bang from her face. Placing her hands on the door, she slid it open and stared into the room.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Silence.

She crooked a brow, crossing her arms over her chest as she fixed her gaze on the orange-haired across the room.

She'd known Ichigo since he was a teenager, just twelve, and watched him grow into a man. He was stubborn, hot-headed, and could be a little thick sometimes when it came to emotions, but he was a good kid and, luckily, she was smart enough to see that in him. Urahara had always called him special, whether it was when he was arrested for murdering someone or if he just came by for a visit. He'd always thought of Ichigo as a special person, both in his heart and as his own person.

She was almost a mother to him, possibly a sister, and she typically knew how to read his face. But at the moment, as she stared at him, she couldn't see a trace of the lewd, scowling, vulgar Ichigo she knew.

He was sitting. The window in front of him was wide open, the breeze moving his orange spikes over his forehead. His strong back was to her and his hands were between his thighs, posture slouched and brooding. Silently, she stepped closer towards him, took one step down and gazed at his face.

"Ichigo," she said softly. He did not remove his eyes from the window and did not move to acknowledge her. "It's not your fault." For some odd reason, she did not know who exactly she was talking about – whether it be Masaki, his family, or Orihime, she knew somehow knew all three would make him even more upset.

She watched quietly as he tensed. His frown was darker than usual and she could see his jaw moving, his teeth grinding together. His eyes tightened, narrowed dangerously, an obvious warning. She thought he would explode, yell at her, curse at her, fling insults even, but he did not say anything and she tightened her arms around her, crossing them even tighter. Intently, he kept his gaze on the orange sky outside, watching as it sank even deeper into the earth, stars visible.

She stepped closer, "Honestly, Ichigo, you don't think this is better?"

He did not reply.

"After all, now she can return home and you can get back to what you do best," she said truthfully. Slowly, she swayed her way even closer to him. "And maybe this way, you can get over this senseless fascination to Princess and go back to home base."

"_Shut. Up_." He hissed venomously, his eyes flashing.

Yoruichi crooked a brow again, smirking smugly at his reaction, "Why? With her gone, it's so much easier, Ichigo. After all, you'll see all the guys again, get paid, and maybe even see Senna—"

If she'd blinked, she would've missed it. And not a lot of things could catch her off guard. When Zangestu was at her throat, the sleek tip pressing into the flesh of her neck, she gasped sharply, but did not move back as Ichigo's eyes met hers, burning a fierce amber and glowering up at her.

No words were spoken for a moment before Yoruichi let out a, "Ch," and pushed the blade away from her with a brush of her hand. "You caught me off guard. That's a new one."

"Shut the fuck up before I slice your tongue out."

She rolled her golden eyes, "That girl is gone, boke. Get over it."

He was up before she knew it. She watched as he sheathed the sword he'd been bestowed from Urahara. His wounds were still fresh and blood was beginning to seep through the bandages again. She watched as he grabbed up his top and pushed his arms through it.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"To find her," he grunted, but she could hear the pain underneath his neutral tone.

There was a whirl of purple, dark skin, and orange cloth, before he was suddenly on his back. Pain erupted from his chest and stomach, causing him to gasp and clench his teeth. Placing her foot on his burning chest, she stared down at Ichigo with an apathetic gaze.

"Don't be such an idiot. You'll just worsen your condition and make her hesitate," a strange look flashed onto her face before she smothered it. "She doesn't belong out here."

There it was again. People telling him bullshit about Kitten. He was growing tired of it. "The fuck do you know, Yoruichi?! Get off me!"

"Stop being so whiny and let me redo your bandages," she demanded, keeping her foot on his chest.

He nearly snapped at her, "Are you hiding somethin' from me?" His eyes narrowed again, "Does Kitten know?"

She waved a hand at him dismissively, but couldn't keep down the flashing in her eyes, "Don't be stupid. And stop calling her that. She's not some play thing."

"Dammit, let me go!"

"And what exactly are you going to do, Ichigo?"

"I'm gonna find her and drag her back here and make her fuckin' look me in the eye! She can't just fuckin' leave like that!"

"You mean you'll find, bring her back, and force her to stay. You know she won't be able to fight you, bastard."

"If you don't get off me in the next five seconds, I'll cut your leg off."

"I~diot." But she lifted her foot. He scowled at her, preparing to sit up with great difficulty, only for her foot to plow back down with enough strength to smash a hole through the ground. Ichigo gasped as the jab knocked him into the ground and agony spurted through his veins. He shuddered, choking on a fresh batch of blood, and more of it seeped from his stomach.

"Y…Y-You bitch…" He spat between his tight teeth. His muscles were jumping, his hands practically itching to wrap around her slender throat and wring the life from her. He had to get to Orihime, he had to fuckin' fix whatever was happening between them.

He could still feel her against him, her lips parting under his eagerly, and her hair flowing through his fingers like silken water. His body was practically itching to touch her again.

_Fuck_.

But she had _run_. She had fled from him as fast as she could, her bright eyes glazed, and her face a lovely shade of dark pink. He felt like everything was getting out of hand when he'd kissed her. As though an unstoppable force came between them and shoved the two together. He could not stop his body and it didn't seem she could either. But this was wrong, all fuckin' wrong. He wasn't supposed to feel this way, he wasn't supposed to watch her so keenly, he wasn't supposed to touch her.

He spat out a vicious curse between gritted teeth.

"Stop trying so hard," Yoruichi's voice was softer than usual. "It'll only hurt more."

Ichigo opened his eyes and glowered up at her, "Shut…Shut up…!"

She pressed her foot down harder and his jaw felt like it would snap from the strain he was putting on it. "It's better this way, ya know? After all, you haven't fully gotten over Senna-chan, right?" Her golden eyes twinkled suggestively, coyly down at him and he found himself even _angrier_.

"You…!"

"Just calm down, dammit," she pressed her foot down a bit more and then lifted it, placing it on the floor again, "Lemme finish your wounds and get a couple of medicines from the other room to ease the pain, alright?"

He did not answer as she placed her hands on her hips and turned the other way. Sliding the door open, she sighed again before turning back towards him.

"Ichigo,"

No response.

She bit her tongue until she tasted the metallic taste of blood. Swallowing, she uttered, "For once, don't be a damn idiot," she slammed the door after her and Ichigo did not react at the sound.

Ichigo's dark brown eyes flashed dangerously and stared up at the ceiling blankly.

_You better come back. _

His eyes narrowed, glaring.

_Or I'll come after you._

**…**

**…**

Yoruichi blinked and glanced over her shoulder, continuing to hold up the bucket full of cloths, medicines, several herbs, and a new set of clothes. She raised a brow when she saw Ishida stand, bringing the thin basket of arrows onto his shoulder and bow.

"Where do you think you're going?" asked the purple-haired woman.

Ishida didn't turn, but replied, "I'm going after her. She's been gone for far too long."

Yoruichi's brow climbed higher, vanishing under a strand of violet hair, "Pardon? Can't you and Ichigo take a hint? She's gone, Ishida-chan."

"I doubt that," The young man snorted vaguely, "Orihime-san wouldn't leave without saying goodbye. I will be back momentarily." He opened the main entrance and slid it closed behind him.

The moon, outside, broke through the thick clouds and shined down on the earth.

**…**

**…**

_Crack_.

Orihime's eyes snapped open.

More or less, she'd been weaseling in and out of consciousness. Every time, it would be the same pictures flashing behind her eyelids. From Sora-nii's death, his head on a pillow to Ichigo yanking her closer, his mouth crushing hers. Her soul felt like it was being pulled in two separate directions and her heart shook powerfully, violently.

_It's cold…and dark. _

She sat up from the thin tree and her legs formed under her in a W-shape. To anyone else, she appeared too small, too delicate to be in such a place. An unfortunate princess that stumbled into the horror in the woods.

_I'm so stupid._

Her lids lowered over her wide, honey eyes.

_I ran like a coward._

She shuddered as she thought of Ichigo, his furious eyes and passionate kiss. she was a coward, truly. She'd run when things got rough and refused to turn back. But she was afraid of what waited for her back at Yoruichi's home. She could still return to the Palace, go in the opposite direction, and leave this all behind.

_But…_

Licking her lips nervously, she tried to ignore the way the air chilled her skin through the thin clothes and her head felt heavy, while her body seemed light.

"I-I'm…I'm scared…"her voice was small, fragile, as though it would break. She was afraid of her feelings, afraid of what Ichigo's passion would bring her, afraid she wouldn't be able to fulfill the promise like she said she would.

_Crack_.

Orihime gasped sharply, breaking from her musings.

She had almost forgotten what had woken her up. Whirling her head around, her hair flying around her small shoulders, her gaze glued onto the two, thick trees just a few feet away. She nearly choked on air when she saw something white move into the glow of the light.

"Well, well, well, if it ain't Inoue Orihime-chan…"

Her eyes widened and _widened_.

"Fancy meetin' ya here,"

She tried to swallow, but found it nearly impossible.

"I-Ichimaru…san…"

**…**

**…**

**To be honest, you guys, I'm not gonna lie, for the first time, I was being genuinely lazy. Usually, I would get over it in a couple of hours and finish a chapter in no time, but I ruined everything by lying back and actually trying to think everything through in this story. I wasted so much time that it makes me angry. I wasn't really looking to make this chapter a cliffhanger, but I definitely wanted a few more secrets to be revealed before the giant climax and I didn't want to hold off the scenes any longer when you guys ask for it so much. **

**I hope I didn't disappoint. I agreed with most of you: Ichigo should've gotten up, chased her, and attacked her with his sexiness right on spot, but sadly, from how I set it up, it couldn't happen and I pouted through, like, one-thousand words before I got over it. Don't worry, Ishida is not "like" with Orihime, he's much more of a protective older brother and I can't wait to get Tatsuki in the mix and Rukia and Renji and Sado so that it will be the whole group that we all know and love. Luckily, I've got other things to spare. **

**No one thinks Yoruichi is OOC, right? Just making sure. Like the canon, I think of her as the blunt person, but also caring. Most of the things she tries to smother with caring, it just comes out wrong and seems a little more blunt than comforting. LOL! Or that's what I think.**

**And also, expect Ichihimeness and action. We all love that, don't we~?**

**Again, sorry for the lateness. I'm not usually so bad at it. I hope you liked this chapter. Please review, it makes my day~!**

**-Star**


	11. Chapter 11

**…**

**…**

Ichimaru Gin was a rather keen gent.

This was the main reason the Emperor of Japan had hired him over twenty years ago to help govern the country. It had been an easy task for the silver-haired young man – after all he was very interested in politics. After working for more than four years, the Emperor was considering promoting him to something even better, maybe his secretary, and resource, but then the Empress became pregnant unexpectedly.

When the news traveled to Gin, the man had smiled, as usual, and said, _"Well, ain't that dandy?"_

It seemed over the next nine months, Gin left the Kingdom more than the Emperor enjoyed. After all, he had a job to take care of. When the Emperor had asked where he always vanished to, Gin would continue to grin coyly. _"Sorry, Yer Majesty, ya gotta do what ya gotta do…" _

Of course, no one understood what he meant until Inoue Orihime was born. As Ichimaru peered into the angelic face of the redhead, he leered. Later that night, as everyone slept, he crept quietly into the newborn's room, and watched as the large hazel eyes stared up at him innocently.

_"Perfect, ain't it?" _Gin drawled and a slender hand crept in to touch the silky head of hair before brushing against the small, soft cheek, _"Orihime-chan, ya don't even know what yer gettin' yerself into…" _

The next day, Ichimaru Gin was gone.

**…**

**…**

"Ichimaru…san," Orihime whispered, her plush lips trembling.

"Aw~ You remember me, Orihime-chan?" He took a step closer and Orihime was frozen. Of course she remembered. There were still the memories of her childhood, flashes of when she was an infant, the white robes she remembered, and the way Sora-nii's face would tense whenever her father asked about Ichimaru. And though he was dull in her mind, she could still recall his menacing disposition.

_He's dangerous_, her subconscious was telling her. As though he could read her mind, his light smile widened.

"What is it, Orihime-chan?" He asked slyly, "Is somethin' wrong?"

Quickly, she scrambled to her feet. Ichimaru smirked as he watched her whirl around and hurry in the other direction.

"Tousen-kun," he called gently.

Before Orihime could even get five feet away, there was suddenly a dark figure in front of her. A shriek of surprise bubbled from her throat and she staggered back. Her heart felt like it would burst from her chest at any given moment, and it wasn't getting difficult to breathe. Raggedly, she sucked in as much air as she could, and stared at the man in front of her as he stepped from the shadows.

"Tousen…san…" Unlike Gin, he'd left the Calvary of the Kingdom when she was just a child. She wasn't sure when or why, but her father had also been very upset when he left. She could still remember when she would walk past the man in the Palace and she couldn't help but feel a shudder move up her spine when she felt his blank gaze on her.

"Good evening, Orihime," he spoke quietly, his voice deep in the cool night.

"P-Please…" She murmured, glancing back towards Ichimaru to see he was continuing to grin impishly.

"Surprise, surprise, Orihime-chan. Ya still have that nicey-nicey nature." She could hear his steps, walking closer to her. Closer. Closer. _Closer_. When he was arms' length away from her, he said, "Ya haven't been da most proper Princess, now have ya, Orihime-chan?"

A shiver wracked up her body, "I…I…"

"What's wrong?" He feigned a concerned look, "Somethin' got'cha tongue…," She watched as his smile grew until it appeared as though his face would break in half, "…_Kitten_?"

She gasped so sharply, she nearly choked. Ice ran through her veins and her heart jumped into her throat.

When the air changed suddenly and something drifted through the wind, Ichimaru's expression changed – he frowned curiously. Orihime blinked her wet eyelashes when an arrow whizzed past Gin's cheek, an inch away, and landed in the thick tree behind the tree.

Gin's frown deepened and he glanced from Orihime to see a shadow step from the trees. "Next time, I will not miss."

Orihime whirled around, ignoring Tousen-san. "Ishida-kun!" Her eyes were not lying. He was there, the bow and arrow in his nimble fingers, and his eyes were narrowed dangerously behind his glasses. Relief swirled in her belly fiercely, but also dread. He shouldn't join her affairs, shouldn't be here at all.

"Step away from her," Ishida's voice was hard, and giving no point to argue.

Gin smirked, _Well, ain't this interestin'…_

He crooned condescendingly, reaching out a hand towards her, "Looks like ya made a few nakama, ne, Orihime-chan?"

Uryu tightened his grip around his bow, "_Don't_ touch her."

"Aw~ he's worried abou'cha," Gin drawled, wrapping a sinewy arm around her shoulders now. Orihime could only stare anxiously at the archer just a yard away. Without warning, he changed his direction and aimed the arrow straight towards Tousen's head.

"Ishida-kun, don't—" A hand crushed her mouth, muffling her words of warning thoroughly. Gin grinned, holding the wiggling woman against his chest.

"Mou, don' put up such'a fuss, Orihime-chan, I jus' wanna speak wit ya," he whispered in her ear.

"Let her go," Ishida's voice was deadly, "Or I'll kill your subordinate." True to his word, he was aiming the arrow directly to Tousen's head, but the dark-skinned man remained still.

"Go right ahead," Gin said, casually draping over the frightened Orihime, "I'm sure he would enjoy it."

Uryu's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean?"

"Ya see, Tousen-kun's in a bit of a pickle. When he was jus'a wee lad, some meanie-meanie men came and snatched his eyesight right away from him," Releasing her mouth, Gin wrapped a hand around Orihime jaw, using his long, thin fingers to push her cheeks together, "Ain't dat sad, Orihime-chan?"

She shoved at his chest, struggling even harder in his unwelcome embrace. "L-Let go!"

"It's a shame, Orihime-chan," Gin continued, as though she wasn't speaking or moving, "I'm sure yer Onii-chan would be turnin' ova in his grave if he knew what ya were doin'."

Instantly, Orihime froze. Smile widening, Gin released her face, watching the horror splay across her features, "What? Ain't dat the entire reas'n yer here? Sora-kun, ne, ne?"

She lowered her head as Gin quirked up an eyebrow. "Let me go…" Her teeth were clenched tightly, as though she was trying to hold something in. Uryu watched carefully.

"What was that? Ya have ta speak louder."

"Let me go!" She shouted, surprising Ishida. He'd never heard such ferocity in Orihime's tone before. Gin, though, seemed to be thoroughly enjoying this. Her gaze was teary now, little droplets on the edges of eyes. Her honey pools were angry, furious even as she glared up at him.

"Eh? Still tender about it?" He asked, crooking his brow upwards.

"Y-You…_monster_!" She hissed venomously, pushing away from the silver-haired finally and whirling around to face him. "You betrayed my family! You betrayed my Father's trust!"

"Hm?" Gin continued to smile coyly, "What nonsense are ya spewing, Orihime-chan? I would never do such a thing—"

"Sora-nii saw it!" She interrupted passionately, "He saw it…and no one believed him." She glanced back towards Tousen, "And you…you…" She swallowed, "You _murdered_ him, didn't you?"

There was silence.

Ishida, slowly, lowered his bow. _Orihime-san, what is going on? _He watched closely as Orihime panted raggedly, her small shoulders moving up and down from the force. And then Gin smiled widely, leering down at her, his slit eyes somehow making Uryu uncomfortable. As though not to startle the girl, Gin slowly lifted his thin palm and pressed it against her soft, hot cheek.

"Ya got any proof," he leaned in close and Uryu tensed, "Yer Majesty?"

Orihime jerked.

With that, Tousen finally moved. Ishida nearly jumped in shock when the dark-skinned man was suddenly gone from his original spot. Ishida cursed, dropping his bow, and yanked out his sword just in time. Ducking under the swing of Tousen's blade, he rose again, and clashed his sword against his.

Orihime pulled back her balled, shaking hand, prepared to strike the grinning man in front of her, but he caught her wrist smoothly, "Haven't ya ever wonder why the Prince really died, Orihime-chan?"

She did not reply.

"Let's all remember dat fine night, shall we? Wasn't a pretty sight, now was it?"

"You…You…!" Orihime attempted to yank away from him, but he held tight.

"Is somethin' eatin' at ya, Orihime-chan? Do ya, maybe, feel _responsible_?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

She bit her bottom, trembling lip, "S…Stop…"

"It's all a part of da plan. Ya see, wit Sora-kun outta da way, that makes ya…" He trailed off, crooking an eyebrow.

Her lips parted, her eyes widening, "…I'm the next in command." She squeezed her eyes shut, "I-I already knew that!"

"Exactly, Orihime-chan. Ya can't even comprehend how much dat helps us. Ulquiorra-kun saved us by steppin' in, ya know~? Da marryin' an' all dat."

Her eyes flew back open in shock, "U-Ulquiorra…sama…?"

"Ya played the game well, Orihime-chan," he continued, as though she hadn't spoken. Casually, he pulled the thin sword from his waist and she stiffened, her heart going in a frenzy. "Don'cha think so?"

"…g-game…" She breathed silently. The shock wouldn't leave. She trembled underneath the undeniable weight. Her knees buckled. The tears were overflowing now, dripping from her chin and onto the ground and her clothes. "No…No…No…"

"Oh, don't cry, Orihime-chan~ There'll be better days," he teased her mercilessly. Pinching her soft cheek, he grinned again before releasing her completely, "It's not da end'a world."

"No…_No_…"

"Yer responsible fer yer own Onii-chan's death. Heh. Or maybe, I'm jus bluffin'. Ya never know, Orihime-chan." Orihime's eyes widened, somehow a slither of hope weaseling into her chest.

_He's lying. Liar. I could never hurt Onii-chan. Never, never, never—_

Placing a hand on her head, he leaned in close, that sickening smile right in front of her blank gaze, "Jus' kiddin'."

Orihime gasped sharply.

Yanking his sword forward, Gin released the girl and passed right by her, casually striding away.

_…No…No!_

And with that, Orihime let loose a _scream_.

**…**

**…**

Ishida moved, quick as lightening, when he heard Orihime scream. It terrified him, his heart went into a frenzy. He hadn't heard a scream like that for as long as he lived. It was full of despair, so strident that it could break anyone's heart. Shoving with all his strength against Tousen's blade, he watched the silent man stagger and catch himself a moment later.

Ishida glowered at him before allowing his eyes to avert to the redhead just a few feet away. She was on the ground, trembling, and her slim arms were wrapped around body, as if to keep herself together. His eyebrows furrowed, _Orihime-san, what're you—_

"Oops!" Gin suddenly chirped and slowly turned back towards Orihime, "Da real reason I'm here, would be da…," he trailed off, eyebrows cocking upwards as he thought about it. His fingers snapped, obviously catching the idea, "Dat's right! Ne, ne, Orihime-chan, does the Heart of Japan tell ya anythin'?"

Orihime froze. _Heart of…_

"I'm sure it rings some bells," Gin continued, stepping closer to her, "After all, the Prince did leave somethin' behind for ya, didn't he?"

"I…" Orihime swallowed, trying to pick up the pieces of her broken world as well as to answer him, "I-I-I haven't seen the Hogyoku since…"

"I know, I know. Since ya were tiny, but…" He stepped closer, "Do ya have any idea where it may be?"

Her teary eyes hardened a bit, "You act as though I would tell you."

"Hm?" He cocked his head to the side, "That's ta bad. For a second dere, I thought I'd broken ya," he smiled lightly, "Too bad, huh?"

"Why a-are you doing this?" Orihime asked, shivering under his sapphire-slit gaze, "Why?"

He grinned mischievously, "Wouldn't ya like ta know?"

When there was suddenly a sharp gasp, Ichimaru casually glanced over his shoulder. Tousen was standing completely still, his sword a few feet away from him, and Uryu held his blade to his throat, panting raggedly. His sharp blue eyes snapped to the grinning man in white.

"Leave her alone," he grounded out between clenched teeth, "Go now and I might reconsider killing you."

"A strong one ya got there, Orihime-chan," Gin commented, almost happily. Raising his slender hand once again, he called, "Yammy-kuuun~!"

Orihime blinked and when she heard the loud footsteps, she watched in shock as burly fellow, over seven feet tall, pushed a large oak tree out of the way, as though it were a twig. His dark brown orbs found Ichimaru almost instantly, "Ah! There ya guys are!" Dragging his gaze to Ishida and Orihime, he scoffed, "Ya should've called me sooner. Such bugs."

Gin shrugged, "My bad, Yammy-kun." Placing his eyes back on the tense Uryu, he smiled, "Would ya mind helpin' out'a bit?"

When a fist came sailing towards Uryu, the black-haired was lucky to dodge back. Cursing, her used his lithe legs to hop backwards, withdrawing his sword from Tousen's neck. He landed a couple feet away, crouched, and glowering up at the large man.

"He's a real pest, isn't he?" Yammy complained, already stalking towards Uryu.

"No! Stop it!" Orihime shrieked, already on her feet. When she was close enough, she grasped onto the back of Yammy's clothing, wrenching with all her strength.

"Huh?" Yammy seemed agitated. Turning to see the small, redheaded woman, he glared down at her, "What're you doing, damn bitch?" His massive hand wrapped around her upper arm, and Orihime whimpered at the pain, attempting to wrench herself away from him.

"Ah, ah, Yammy-kun," Gin wiggled his finger and Yammy glanced up at him curiously, "No killin' Orihime-chan. Stay focused on the main topic."

Without warning, an arrow sailed forward in amazing speeds and caught Yammy in the arm. The blood instantly seeped from the room and he released Orihime just as soon. Stumbling backwards, she landed on her bottom, giving a soft squeal.

"You bastard!" Yammy hollered angrily, yanking the arrow from his flesh. Blood stained his clothing and he gnashed his teeth together, "I'll kill you!" Skillfully, Ishida ducked under the crashing blow of Yammy's fist, and it smashed into another tree.

"Ishida-kun!" A next second, he threw his arms around Orihime, throwing them both back as Yammy attempted to squash the two beneath his feet.

"My, my," Gin sighed, a gleeful expression on his pale face. Tousen stood next to him, quiet and stoic, "Tis may go on long'a than I expected. Yammy-kun, finish up, will ya? We wouldn't want Captain mad 'bout any extras hearin' our secrets, now would we?"

"SHUT UP!" Yammy roared, "I know, dammit!" Wrenching his sword from his waist, he glowered down at Ishida, who stood in front of Orihime protectively. Orihime gripped the back of his shirt anxiously. His right legs was bloody and one of his wrist seemed to be fractured. She felt tears sting her eyes.

"Ishida…kun, please, don't—"

"DIE!" Yammy roared and brought his sword down with amazing strength.

_Dammit,_ Ishida's eyes narrowed.

"N-No!" Orihime cried. Her eyes squeezed shut, awaiting her fate.

And then there was a flash of black.

_Silence_.

Tousen paused, frowning.

Yammy grimaced along with him, staring down at the unfamiliar face in front of him, "Huh? What the hell?!"

Gin tilted his head to the side, crooking an eyebrow, "Hm?"

"What's wrong, Ishida?"

Orihime's eyes snapped open. _That voice…_Her gaze rose from the ground, to Ishida's back, and finally to the black figure standing above both of them, his dark sword drawn and clashing viciously with Yammy's.

"Is this guy too much for ya?" he drawled casually.

Uryu glared up at him, "Be quiet, Kurosaki!"

"I…chigo…" Orihime breathed. Her worry seemed to disappear entirely. She could no longer feel the pain of her brother's death, she could no longer even think about the two traitors behind her. Ichigo was here and that was all that mattered. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest and she wondered if it was from her adrenaline rush or just because of Ichigo.

Slowly, Ichigo's head turned. Orihime gasped sharply, jerking at his intense gaze. His eyes locked with hers automatically. It felt as though he was trying to tell her something. She wasn't sure if it was good or bad, but it made her feel as though her heart would burst from her chest at any moment.

"You alright?" He asked quietly, continuing to gaze at her.

She swallowed thickly and wiped away the remainder of her tears. Giving a small, delicate smile, she said, "Y-Yes."

With that, he turned back towards Yammy, who was glaring down at him with clear frustration and disdain. "Who the hell are you?!" He bellowed, his eyes tight.

Ichigo stared up at him, his eyes ferocious through thick locks of orange hair, "What does it matter?" He demanded sharply, "I'm your fuckin' murderer."

"Oh, my," Gin said, fingering the sword in his hand. "Tis is not how I expected everythin' ta go."

"Indeed," Tousen murmured in agreement, his fists clenched by his sides.

Yammy retracted his blade and scratched his head with confusion, "OI! Gin! Can I kill him too?"

Gin frowned, "I don't think—"

Before anyone could react, there was a swipe of black. Blood splattered against the ground the next second and Ichigo stepped back, placing his sword on his shoulder nonchalantly. Yammy's eyes bugged and he clutched at his stomach, where Ichigo had slashed. The blood flowed profusely and Yammy sneered up his lips.

"Y-You damn…" He hissed venomously.

Ichigo scowled up at him, "I'm not sure who the hell ya are, but I won't allow random ass guys to talk shit in my face."

"Kurosaki, what the hell do you think you are doing?" Ishida stood, glowering at the man. Instantly, Ichigo sharpened his own glare.

"Huh?"

"This is my opponent. I do not need your assistance, Kurosaki."

"WHAT'D YOU SAY, YOU BASTARD! You were the one just lying there!"

"Pardon me?"

"YOU HEARD ME!"

"Revolting manners, you have, Kurosaki."

"Bastard."

"Dunce."

"Prick."

"Imbecile."

"You motherfucker—"

"Kurosaki-san, Ishida-kun! Please, you mustn't fight." Orihime pleaded with the both of them. The electricity buzzed between the two and Orihime took a conscious step back. When she heard the lithe steps coming closer to her, she was quick to whirl around, finding Gin walking towards them.

"Such familiarity between all ya too," Gin mused, grinning. As he walked towards them, Orihime felt herself shudder. He locked eyes onto her, and his grin widened even more. Orihime stumbled back as he stopped in front of her, and reached out a thin hand, his finger finding a thick lock of auburn. "What's wrong, Orihime-chan? Won't ya introduce me ta ya friend?"

Suddenly, there was another flash of black. Orihime squeaked and Ishida clenched his teeth. Two blades met fiercely, sparks flying, and Orihime's mind caught up with her, "Don't!"

Ichigo shoved himself backwards. The silver-haired man stared back at him from a few feet away. There was a sharp breeze, the whistle breaking the silence.

Setting his blade in front of him angrily, Ichigo glared at him, "What the hell're ya doing, you sonuvabitch?!"

Gin crooked an eyebrow, but kept a tight grip on his sword, "Eh? What a funny kid. Ain't ya scared o' me?"

Lazily, Ichigo replied, "Not one bit, you fox-faced bastard."

Expression darkening, Gin smirked, "Are you Kurosaki Ichigo?"

His scowl deepened, "Ya know about me?"

Straightening, Gin grinned, "So it is ya, after all." He strapped his sword on his waist and sighed, "Well'p I guess we should go report 'bout tis ta Captain," he turned towards his comrade, "C'mon, Tousen-kun, let's go. Yammy-kun, ya should hurry ta~!" And he strode away.

Ichigo shouted after them, "Hey! What the fuck?! Where're ya goin'?"

With a heavy grunt, Yammy stood, a hand against his stomach, Yammy sneered up his lip at Ichigo, "I'll fuckin' kill ya—"

"Yammy," Gin's voice was as sharp as his blade, "_Now_." Yammy glowered hatefully at his back, but then back to Ichigo. After considering it for a second, he lurched after the two.

"What the fuck!" Ichigo hollered in indignation, "There's no fuckin' way I'm lettin' ya get away!" He rushed after them, only for Yammy to growl angrily. He grabbed onto a few large trees and yanked them down.

"Kurosaki-san!" Orihime cried worriedly. Just in time, Ichigo jerked to a stop just as the tree landed, blocking their path from going in further.

Just as the last tree fell, Gin leaned down at the waist at the gap so he was visible and waved a hand, smiling coyly, "Bye-bye~!" He sang, just as the last tree fell, blocking them all thoroughly.

"Fuckers!" Ichigo growled furiously.

Orihime stood a few feet away, her eyes wide and glossy. They were gone – that was good. She shuddered as she thought of Gin's touch, his blue eyes, and his drawn sword. His actions had said a lot, but his words spoke volumes. She broke her, if only for a moment, and he could do it as many times as he enjoyed.

_And…I…_

Suddenly, Ichigo breathed out unevenly before falling to his knees.

Orihime jerked and then cried, "Ichigo!" She was by his side before Ishida could even decipher it. She dropped down beside him, "You reopened your wounds, d-didn't you?"

He did not reply, but continued to pant. His lengthy, orange spikes fell over his eyes, blocking them from her hungry gaze. Slowly, her head lowered. She reached for his hand carefully, but stopped herself on the last second. Pulling back, she tried to hold herself in, but it spilled out without her consent.

"I-I'm sorry."

There was something between them, something pushing them together. It hurt, because she knew it wasn't going to work, it was going to end at some point, they would be yanked away from each other, and that hurt more than anything else.

Ichigo did not move.

"This…" She swallowed, "This is my fault." She hunched her shoulders inward, balling her hands against her thighs. The tears came before she could even think straight and dripped down her cheeks, and hit the ground. Her breath caught – the night's events taking over her being.

Ichigo's gaze rose. "Orihime…"

Her eyes met his and she hiccupped lightly, "I…I won't…bother you…," She gasped in sharp breaths, "…anymore…"

_I have to leave. _

More tears followed, stubborn, trailing down her pink cheeks and dripping off her chin.

_After everything…_

She tightened her hands against her thighs until the knuckles turned white.

_Ichigo…I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so, so sorr—_

A hand wrapped around the back of her head firmly. Orihime gasped sharply, but it was quickly swallowed by Ichigo's lips. She tensed and watched as the sparks exploded behind her wide eyes. Just as every time, pure _Ichigo_ burst around her, sending her into a shattered oblivion. Her lids fluttered closed at the feeling.

This was not like their last kiss. He was gentle, but still tight in holding her. His fingers buried deep in her thick hair, and his palm touched the back of her neck. His heat was contagious – she burned under him, trying to catch something that was farther away than she'd ever presumed it would be.

And then he pulled back. Her teary, hazy eyes opened, heavily lidded, and he dragged his thumb across her well-kissed bottom lip.

"Don't leave," he brought her closer and their lips brushed once again, "Don't fuckin' leave me, Orihime."

Her heart jumped.

"K-Kuro…Ichigo…" she breathed and he smothered her with another kiss. She inhaled sharply, his scent overriding her senses. He created sparks through her mouth and heat scorched straight through her.

Ichigo grunted, wrapping his free arm behind her, and pressed his palm against her back, bringing her even closer. His kiss was hungry, even hopeful in his passion, and it sent shivers down her spine. She tried to kiss back, but he delved right in, his tongue finding hers, and she whimpered against his lips as he slanted his lips over her again and again.

When he broke the kiss, she was yearning for more. Her thoughts, her worries, her fear vanished completely. With Ichigo there, she could find herself actually melting into relief.

"Stay," he said.

She could feel the tears gathering again. They spilled over again, but somehow she smiled softly, tenderly at him.

_"Okay." _

Ishida scoffed lowly under his breath, but did not bother saying anything. _As long as she's happy…It doesn't particularly matter to me._

**…**

**…**

**Yay! Another chapter finished and right on time too! Does anyone else LOVE Gin, or is it just me? Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter. I tried really hard, but I couldn't explain exactly how I wanted to. I'll probably explain it better later. But I hope most of you got the gist of the betrayal and secrets. Maybe just a little. And yes, we had to throw in the Ichihimeness or it wouldn't be complete. **

**Thanks for reading! Please review, it makes me happy.**

**-Star**


	12. Chapter 12

**…**

**…**

"Fucker."

"Imbecile."

"Pompous ass."

"Look at you, Kurosaki. You can finally use a fundamental vocabulary."

"Shut the fuck up, you damn prick!"

Uryu placed his hand on the hilt of his thin sword, "Come any closer and I'll cut you down."

Ichigo's scowl deepened, "I'd like to see you fuckin' try—"

"W-Wait! You two promised not to fight!"

"Stay out of it, Orihime."

"Don't talk to her like that."

"I'll talk to her however the hell I want to!"

"P-Please—"

"Then I shall slice out your tongue."

"Dammit! Let me at 'im!"

Quickly, Orihime clutched onto Ichigo's arm as the orange-haired tried to throw a punch at the spectacled man. At this point, she was gnawing on her bottom lip. It was morning, and as soon as everyone had wakened at Yoruichi's home, Ichigo and Uryu had sought each other out and began to argue. Orihime tried to stop the bickering on her own, but it seemed pointless. They wouldn't stop for anything.

"Yoruichi-saaan," Orihime whined, attempting to keep her grip tight on Ichigo's arm, "Please help me."

The dark-skinned woman crossed her arms over her chest, giving the redhead a knowing look, "Why? He's your man, isn't he?"

Orihime's heart lurched. Ichigo and Uryu paused. Of course, last night hadn't escaped her mind either. After the near-death experience, she'd claimed she would leave Ichigo, run away and never look back, but he silenced her with a kiss. It had been enough for her body to burst into flames and her lips and jaw tingled from the reminder. Gasping, she reeled backwards, away from Ichigo as though he'd burned her.

No one in the room missed that movement and Uryu dropped his hand back to his side while Yoruichi yawned and stretched, leaving the room, mumbling something about breakfast.

"And what," Ichigo muttered, his tone harder than usual, "was that for, Kitten?"

Orihime licked her lips nervously as the nickname left his mouth. She was grateful that he wasn't facing her: she had no idea what she would do with those eyes on her. Uryu crooked a brow at her.

"I-I should…" She had no way to finish her sentence, but she managed to scramble backwards into the back room and was quick to shut the door.

Ishida crossed his arms over his chest as Ichigo tensed, his eyes darkening at the sound of her exit. Turning his face away indignantly, Ishida huffed, "When are we leaving, Kurosaki?" He refused to look at the orange-haired when he swiveled his head towards Uryu.

Clenching his fists, Ichigo glared at him, "Ya talk as if you're coming with us."

Ishida met his stare head-on, "That's because I am."

Ichigo visibly bristled, "Like fuck you are—"

"Look, Kurosaki," Ichigo quieted at his tone, "I know we will never see eye-to-eye, and at the moment, I want to slit your throat out, but Orihime-san has been nothing but kind to me. I am not sure why she is with you or why she even lets you _touch_ her, but…I will accompany her on her journey and give her all the assistance and strength she will need."

Ichigo glowered at him for a long moment, his scowl turning more thoughtful than menacing before he turned his face away with a, "Tch! It's not like I giv'a fuck anyway. Do whatever you want, you damn asshole." With that, he sheathed his sword and walked out of the front door.

Uryu stared after him before returning his gaze to the door Orihime had exited, "Orihime-san? I know you are listening."

There was a small squeak and a shuffle of feet, "M-Mou, Ishida-kun, you are really perspective."

He smiled a bit, "It comes from years of practice. Kurosaki is too dull to notice." He paused for a second, listening to her hesitate on her feet, "Would you mind telling me what exactly happened last night?"

Again, there was silence. Slowly, the door opened to reveal Orihime. She stared at the ground, hands limp on the entrance of the door, "Um…I-It's a long story, Ishida-kun. I would rather not explain it."

His smile fell, "I got the gist of it," he murmured and her eyes shot up to his, "Your Majesty, huh?"

Smiling weakly, she nervously averted her gaze again, "I'd prefer if you didn't call me that. Orihime's just fine."

Ishida's eyes narrowed. "Do I even want to know what you are doing outside of your home? The Kingdom is quite far from here."

She bit her lower lip, "P-Please don't be angry."

"Just tell me everything you can and I'll try to understand."

"Like I said before," Orihime whispered, "It's a long story." He didn't relent his stare, and Orihime's eyes found his, withering under his gaze, "I will tell you. But you must promise not to say anything to Kurosaki-san…"

Ishida dropped his arms to his sides, "I feel as though I'm going to regret this."

In reply, Orihime smiled sadly.

**…**

**…**

Ichigo allowed his naturally tense body to relax, if only for a second before his scowl came back in full force, enough to make the sky darken. His head was beginning to hurt and he allowed his eyes to squeeze closed. As he lifted his chin, he sighed heavily, creaking his eyes open to stare at the vast, clear sky.

"_Fuck_…"

The clouds were playing a dangerous game, closing in and then shifting apart. It made him even more irritated than he already was. It appeared as though it would rain soon, and he despised the rain. So wet and cold and unnatural that it made his skin crawl sometimes. Why did water come from the clouds anyway? He felt like punching the very God who thought of that stupid idea.

His stomach still hurt from last night. Literally, it felt like his insides were on fire from the simple, long gash. It _had_ been healing slowly, and he'd gone and fucked it up. It was bleeding again, he could feel it. But the wry, large grin stretched across his face as he thought of how he'd opened it again.

That ass from last night was something else. If he didn't know any better, he would think he was a part of some gang, some yakuza, but he couldn't remember seeing his face around. It bothered him – that guy with the silver hair and blue eyes. And the way he touched Orihime – it had his skin crawling.

His eyes darkened. Orihime.

_"Don't fuckin' leave me, Orihime."_

He hadn't ever sounded so defenseless before, much to his discomfort. He'd never spoken to a woman like that, and the only time he did was with his mother. But at that moment, when he stared at her, as her bottom lip trembled, her hands clenched into tiny balls, and her eyes watered, trails of wet heat coursing down her small face, he couldn't find himself saying anything else.

_"Stay."_

And as he'd said those words, he couldn't help but find the opposite happening. Soon, this journey would be over, he could feel it, and he would watch Orihime turn and never look back. And why did that fuckin' hurt? Out of everything shitty that has happened in his life, and he desperately clings to this girl. Somehow, she'd managed reach out with her little fist and take a hold of his damn rotting heart. He wouldn't – _couldn't_ – say he was in love with the strange girl, but there was an odd affection that made his very soul leap whenever she was brought up or seen. It made his head hurt just to think about her, about their relationship, and he found himself wondering what she thought of if, where she was, if she was alright. Good thing he kept such a good eye on her or he'd go insane.

He dragged his tongue along his bottom lip, recalling how her taste lit up his mouth, caused his body to heat up the way Senna never had. Breathing in deep, he tried to stop himself from chasing in the house, grabbing her up, and demanding some questions to the feelings he was going through. Narrowing his eyes at the sky, he crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring the stinging pain in his stomach.

"Tch," he breathed sourly, "I know they're hidin' somethin'." He glanced over his shoulder, at the door. he could practically feel her heat seeping through the barrier between them. She was dangerous and addicting, and full of secrets that he wanted to learn. It seemed as though an invisible wall was around her – between them – and he couldn't tear through it, he couldn't get to her, and she seemed to like it that way.

Well, that didn't matter. She'd broke through his walls and now it was his turn.

**…**

**…**

"B-But, Ichigo, please listen to m—"

"No way. We're leavin' now."

"B-But—Wait! Ichigo, your wounds and—"

"Is that buffoon walking around again?"

"Fuck you!"

"Ah! Ishida-kun, Ishida-kun! Please, tell Ichigo that he needs t-to rest. Just a few more days and—"

"Ch. Let the idiot do what he wants. If his intestines slide out, it is his own problem."

"Ishida-kun!"

Shoulders sagging, Orihime watched as the two began to bicker with each other, curses and vulgar words slung with such austerity, she wanted to cover her ears. The sun was high in the sky, and it had only been a week since they'd taken refuge in Yoruichi-san's home. Orihime was grateful for the three-square meals and the large land that she was free to roam. The only problem seemed to be the tension in the home. Ishida would glare at Ichigo, Ichigo would glare at Ishida, and Yoruichi would eat lazily, watching all three, as Orihime was caught in the middle.

There were also those nights. There were nightmares – a smile on Gin's face, Tousen's hand reaching for her, blood seeping through her fingers and staining her milky skin. All of it made her stomach roll. When she'd wake up in the middle of the night, panting, skin shining with sweat, she'd stare down at her trembling hands and blink away the blood.

**…**

**…**

_One night, when one dream of Onii-chan had gone horribly, dreadfully, revoltingly wrong, she'd woken up, and breathed out a silent sigh of relief. And when she heard the voices outside her own empty room, she stared at the shadows dancing outside her room, the light of the moo illuminating. It was obviously Yoruichi, and from the spiky-haired figure, she found herself tracing her eyes over Ichigo's long, strong figure. _

_"…being such a pussy." _

_She flushed at the lewd words, but leaned towards them, honestly curious. The covers were tangled in her legs, so she could not move, but as she'd watch the two settle down on the stair outside, in front of the small pond behind Yoruichi's home, she listened. _

_"Who the hell says I'm bein' a pussy, dammit!" _

_She found a smile on her lips from Ichigo low, low voice. She could almost imagine the danger lurking in his gaze when he snapped at Yoruichi. _

_"Stop hurting yourself." _

_There was a pause, Orihime was quiet in her breathing. _

_"After all these years," Yoruichi continued, her tone casually, "You still harbor those same feelings." _

_"Yeah. So?" Ichigo sounded defensive and his shadow moved. He'd crossed his arms. _

_"You're the one who jumped at the chance to save her," Yoruichi insisted quietly, "And after all the shit you went through with her." _

_"Senna's the past," Ichigo growled. _

_Orihime's back went ramrod. "Senna?" She mouthed silently. Her heart hurt, for only a moment, before it numbed over. She'd talked herself some courage earlier, it wouldn't be so bad. She'd come to terms with the fact that Ichigo had feelings for another woman, a woman that was probably better than her, smarter, more cunning, someone who could fight and protect themselves. She clenched her hands into fists. Just because she'd came to terms with it, didn't mean she didn't feel anything. _

_Sometimes, she felt like a toy. Ever since that night – that confrontation with Gin – Ichigo hadn't touched her. As though she was made from glass. A small part of her told her that maybe she was a toy, maybe she was boring and he was tired of her already. After all, they were together just to complete this journey, nothing more. He didn't want her to leave for the sake of his own entertainment, she thought bitterly. Yet, still, she stayed, grasping frantically at the straws of Kurosaki Ichigo. _

"Don't fuckin' leave me, Orihime."

_Those words haunted her day and night, and when she even thought about leaving, stepping away from him, the words would waft through her head and make her tear ducts act up. It was as though she'd been placed under a curse, a curse she could not break and did not want to. She kept asking herself if her feelings were true, if she was really in love with someone such as Ichigo, and she never came up with an answer. _

_Falling in love hadn't been a part of the plan. Actually, she hadn't even thought of it. And now, when she stared at his face, everything inside of her was screaming in pain, her heart wishing to reach for something that she couldn't have. It hurt, a lot. So much that she sometimes cried herself to sleep. _

_Even if she gave into her desires, kissed him, dropped every single wall for him, it wouldn't work out. At some point, her mother would find her, she'd be back in the Kingdom, marrying Ulquiorra, and forced to never look back. Ichigo probably wouldn't either, probably hate her for lying to him. _

_How could I do this to myself?_

_She was an idiot. _

_"And now you're dropping her for the Princess?" Yoruichi asked, breaking Orihime from her thoughts. She blinked a few times, her eyes stinging, and she nearly laughed at herself if not for the situation. _

_"Stop talkin' like you know shit," Ichigo spat, his shoulders stiff, "I ain't doin' anything." _

_"You think I don't see it? The way you look at her? I'm old, not stupid, Ichigo," she muttered. _

_There was a dry snort, "I should respect my elderly, right?" Orihime could imagine Yoruichi glaring at him, "Well, _fuck you_, Yoruichi. I'm not replacing Senna." _

_"Hmmm?" Yoruichi's interest seemed to peek. _

_"I told you before. Orihime is Orihime." _

_Orihime's eyes widened, her lashes wet, and her hands clenched. _

_"You're dancing around the question, my boy. Don't be such a downer." _

_"Shaddup!"_

_"So what're you gonna do now?" Yoruichi asked, ignoring him. She placed her hands on the wood, leaning back lazily, "Travel the world with her or what?" _

_"Or what," Ichigo grumbled and Orihime's heart stopped, "Kitten makes her own decisions. Ask _her_, dammit." _

_There was a smirk in Yoruichi's voice when she spoke again, "Moron, I'm talkin' about you. It's weird. Usually, you'd be all brazen when you've met a new gal. You talk as if there's a pole up your ass." _

_"…" _

_"You're brooding." _

_"I'm fuckin' not!" _

_"Then why won't you touch her?" _

_Ichigo was silent. Orihime's heart was not. _

_There was another beat of silence before Ichigo grunted, "Tch. As if I'd tell you." _

_"I probably don't wanna know," Yoruichi teased, "It's perverted, isn't it?" _

_Ichigo was quiet again. _

_"Ichigo?" _

_"…She's fragile." _

_Orihime could sense the surprise emerging from Yoruichi. _

_"I can tell just by lookin' at her. I can break her, so fuckin' easily that it irritates me." _

_"You mean _scares_ you, moron," Yoruichi cut in, "And you've seen Orihime in action. I doubt she's that breakable." _

_"Not physically, bitch," Ichigo hissed before his voice softened, thoughtful almost, "I mean…somewhere inside. When I touch her, it feels like I'm crushing her from the inside out, as if she's afraid to tell me the real her. It's not like I mind or anything, but it pisses me the fuck off that she can't trust me."_

_"Ichigo, _I_ don't trust you." _

_"Would'ya shut the fuck up!" _

_"So aggressive~" _

_"You've been hanging around Urahara too much." _

_Yoruichi chuckled before cutting the sound off sharply, "You don't know her." _

_"Don't have to," Ichigo said. _

_"You don't know what you're getting yourself into." _

_"Don't care." _

_"And if she leaves on her own?" _

_"I'll drag her back." _

_Orihime's heart wouldn't be quiet. For a second, she thought they could hear it when they paused and it was eerily quiet. Yoruichi was the first to speak up, "You haven't fallen in love with her, have you?" _

_Ichigo tensed before scoffing, turning his face away indignantly, "Shaddup." _

_"I'm being serious, Ichigo. There are things about her that you don't know. Things that'll land you in a heap of shit."_

_ "So you know it?" _

_Yoruichi's slim shoulders shrugged, "Don't think too much of it. And the way you look at her might scare her away." _

_"Good." Ichigo grunted, "She needs to be scared." _

_"So do you," _

_Ichigo faced her, "What do you mean by that, bitch?" _

_"Nothin', nothin'," And there was a hard, low thump, "And don't call me bitch." _

_"Ow! Fuck! I think I'm bleeding again!" _

_Silently, Orihime bowed her head and clasped her shaking hands together. And right then, she knew that she wouldn't be able to be with anyone properly, at least, not like how she was with Ichigo._

**…**

**…**

"Hey."

Jerking from her thoughts, Orihime jolted a bit with a small squeak of fright. Yoruichi watched her, hand on hip, eyebrow cocked.

"You okay?"

Quickly, the girl whirled around, gracelessly at that, and her hair swiveled around her like a silken cloth of red-gold. With a large smile, she nodded, "I-I'm fine, Yoruichi-san." The girl bowed respectively, "Thank you for your hospitality."

Yoruichi sighed, "No need for such formalities, your Highness." She snarked and Orihime rose, biting her bottom lip nervously. Gesturing with her chin to Ichigo, who was still bickering with Ishida – _"SHUT UP, YOU BASTARD!"_ – and murmured, "Take good care of him for me, Inoue."

Orihime blinked several times before following the dark-skinned woman's gaze. She flushed a dark pink, "H-Hai." Before Ichigo could notice her staring, she returned her attention to Yoruichi, "I'll try my best."

"Oh," Yoruichi seemed to remember something, "And, Inoue?" The redhead glanced at her curiously, "I'm sorry."

Orihime blinked again, "…Eh?"

"When I made you leave like that, how I spoke to you. It was rather rude and uncalled for. I give you my most sincere apology." Yoruichi bowed low at the waist to her, but still held the cunning smirk on her face, "Inoue-_sama_."

Orihime waved her hands in front of her frantically until they blurred and turned an even darker shade of pink, "A-Ano, it's fine! I-I swear! Actually, if you hadn't spoken with me, I don't think I would've had the guts to speak with Kurosaki-san."

"Don't you mean Ichigo?" Yoruichi arched her brow again when she stood straight.

Orihime began to flail, "Y-Yoruichi-s—"

"You should hurry along," Yoruichi murmured, cocking her head a bit to the side, "You have a long road ahead of you, ya know."

Orihime paused, frowning a bit. Yoruichi sounded like she knew more than she seemed to let off. Glancing back over her shoulder at the two men, she nodded slowly, "I suppose you are right."

Yoruichi winked, "I usually am."

"BRING IT ON, DAMMIT!"

"I'll slice out your throat, Kurosaki."

"A-Ah! Please don't hurt each other!" Orihime protested shrilly, rushing towards the two.

Yoruichi crossed her arms over her chest, watching as they all bickered with each other, settled, and walked away from her home, Orihime turning back towards her to wave her small hand high in the air.

"Goodbye, Yoruichi-san~!"

Unenthusiastically, she raised her own hand and waved limply, "See ya."

And she watched as they all vanished from her sight.

_"Meow." _

Quickly, she glanced down at the small, black cat at her feet, rubbing its body against her shins, "Ah. Welcome back." She picked it up familiarly. "Any news from Kisuke?" She asked playfully, carrying it into the home.

**…**

**…**

"B-But, Your Highness—"

Her long, slim arm whipped out, "North! I want every village dug through! I want her found!"

Calmly, Ulquiorra picked up his cup of tea, watching as the Empress of Japan carried on. Discreetly, he glanced at the line of guards, who were shaking in their armor. Pathetic. He took a glimpse out the wide window beside him, watching as the birds flew by.

He could hear the words playing over and over in his head. His emerald eyes tightened a fraction.

_"Don't get caught. That's all you need to worry about, Ulquiorra."_

_"Right, Aizen-sama."_

"Now!" The Empress bellowed and the guards scurried like insects.

Breaking himself from his thoughts, he heard the clacking of heels. A maid refilled his china glass with trembling hands, and refused to look him in the eye. When she finally left, the Queen walked towards the fine table, placing her long hands on the wood.

Looking him in the eye, she said, "The wedding will be in a fortnight."

Ulquiorra arched a brow, "But Orihime is not—"

"Two weeks," The Queen repeated, her tone harder, "She will return here in two weeks and the wedding will be celebrated."

Ulquiorra merely stared at her.

Slowly, the Empress smirked, "And soon, you will be the Emperor of Japan."

_—"Don't get caught. That's all you need to worry about."—_

There was a beat of silence.

"Right, Empress."

Her smile widened, "Oh, please. Call me Mother."

**…**

**…**

**Not much Ichihime, but you have it to look forward to in next chapter. I am so sorry I've been gone for so long, but I'm BAAAACK and no, it was not due to laziness this time. The first semester is over, and I've been studying for exams, filling in as an understudy for a play when I'm the stage manager, and finishing many papers. Being a senior is hard. **

**So sorry to everyone who waited for me for so long. I hoped you liked this chapter. I had to rewrite since my computer turned off on me so suddenly. Next chapter, expect action, Ichihime, and of course Renji, Rukia, and possibly Grimmjow and Shinji. But definitely Rukia and Renji, love those two and who else can't wait for their reaction to Orihime? **

**And uh-oh, looks like it's wearing down. Two weeks? I give Ichigo two weeks to sort out his feelings, start drama, and kill someone. Sometimes I wonder if I'm just evil. It was nice to write Ulquiorra, if only for a second, I've missed him in this story, and expect much more of him. **

**I didn't want to put a lot of Ulquihime in this story, but I am forced to do so. But don't worry, it will never amount up to my Ichihime and what I intend them to do. I hoped you liked this chapter, I worked hard to complete and look forward to another this weekend, or by the latest, Tuesday. **

**Please review. I missed you guys~!**

**-Star**


	13. Chapter 13

**…**

**…**

Stretching her hands above her head, Orihime took in a deep breath. The air seemed thicker than usual, as though it would rain. She exhaled, and then glanced up almost nervously. There was Ichigo, hands propped behind his head lazily, his top open to expose his chiseled chest to the cool wind. His eyes were closed, and for a second, she wished they were open so she could stare into his brown eyes.

She supposed she'd seen every expression in those vivid orbs – from violently hungry, to sadistically ecstatic. She'd seen tenderness in his eyes, some kind of gentle look he would give her from time to time. And even though he did not tell her any of his secrets, she could see everything he wished to share with her from his gaze. Some people said he was hard to read, while Orihime begged to differ. She watched every expression that crossed his face whenever she could, studying it and saving the look in the back of her mind – from a glare to a half-hearted smirk.

It had been a full two days since they'd left Yoruichi-san's home. They had only passed through one village, and were now busy covering through the mountains. The air was denser up higher, and wild animals roamed wherever they pleased. Orihime did not mind one bit as Ishida threated to cook anything that stared to long at trio. Whenever a creature would pass through, Ichigo would somehow catch its eyes, and it would flee rather quickly. Orihime watched in awe – she wished to possess such powers.

"…the next village would be…"

Orihime jerked, breaking from her thoughts. Uryu was staring at the broken down trail, placing a hand under his chin as he thought. Ichigo was glowering at him.

"Wouldn't it be Sokyoku…?" Orihime wondered out loud. Both men turned to her, Ichigo crooking his brows upwards and Ishida's mouth parted. Orihime flushed, "I-I mean…I _think_…"

"For someone who doesn't leave home much," Uryu began tentatively, pushing up his glasses, "You sure do know much about Japan."

Orihime laughed nervously, "I suppose."

Ichigo watched them closely, and his eyes darkened and narrowed before he turned away, "Let's get going then…"

Orihime stared at his strong back for a few seconds before lowering her eyes to the ground.

_One day, Ichigo, I'll tell you the truth. And maybe one day, it won't hurt so much anymore. _

**…**

**…**

"Wow~" Orihime said, glancing around rapidly, as though to absorb every detail. This village was even larger, grander than before. First, Orihime gazed at the large, bustling crowd, selling, purchasing, tugging their children along, laughing, talking with one another. She longed to be a part of it. It seemed as though a whole new world, something Orihime wanted to delve into, find the correct passage to journey.

She could see herself here. She could see a family, a small child with orange hair and a baby in her arms – and somewhere, somehow, a tall man with orange hair, black blade prepared to take on anything that wished to disturb their family. Blinking rapidly, she tried to chase away the thought. It was pointless anyway. Discreetly, she took a glance at Ichigo, who was glaring at anyone who stopped and stared at him the wrong way. Softly, she smiled – he'd changed, if only a bit. If it had been only three weeks ago, he would've killed those people without a second thought.

As they passed through the village together, Ishida kept a close eye on the two redheads. It seemed as though Orihime was automatically drawn to Ichigo, following him subconsciously as she watched the village with childlike fascination. He smiled gently at her back, and then glowered at Ichigo's head. The man was acting more strange than usual. He didn't want to intervene in their relationship – he tried very hard not to – but with how the two were acting, he couldn't help but notice. After discovering Orihime was the very Princess of the country, he'd been fierce in keeping her secret and keeping her safe. She didn't seem to mind, but blushed whenever she tripped and Uryu would almost lost control of his heart. Ichigo seemed to notice – he was fairly perceptive when it came to certain subjects – but didn't bother questioning Uryu, since they did not get along at the very least. But he watched, and he kept quiet, and it bothered Ishida. From what he could tell, he hadn't touched Orihime since they'd left Yoruichi-san's home. Orihime was bothered by it, he could see that. Each day, it was as if she was an eager puppy, waiting for its master's attention, and when Ichigo passed by her each day without even a backwards glance, she'd drop her eyes and flinch, as if this action caused her actually pain. Ishida would ask her if she was alright and she'd answer all the time with that damn forced smile and say, _"I'm fine, Ishida-kun! Hehe, sorry, am I worrying you again?"_ and he'd glare at her, and then Ichigo, who blatantly ignored them both.

Honestly, it was beginning – as Kurosaki would say – _pissing_ him off.

But there was nothing he could do about. At least, not alone. And as he said earlier, he did not wish to intervene into their relationship. It was not his place. But it was as if the two were utterly clueless.

"Ishida-kun?" Orihime tilted her head to the side at the dark-haired man. Ishida slid his eyes over to the girl, crooking a brow. She smiled brightly, "Sorry. I thought the little men stole your brain."

Ishida silently sweat-dropped, "No, I am fine. Thank you."

She stared at him with those wide, hazel eyes for a few seconds, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," he nodded, and then gave her a once-over, "How about you? How are you feeling?"

"Eh? Me?"

"Yes, you, Orihime-san. You've been quite jittery these last few days. Do you need to rest?" As they stopped together, he arched a brow at her.

Waving her hands in front of her until they blurred, Orihime shook her head, "N-No! Of course not! It's just—" She paused, frowning a bit, "Where did Kurosaki-san go?"

Ishida returned her look of confusion, glancing around to see if the orange-haired man was anywhere in sight. Indeed, he wasn't. "Bloody hell…" Ishida grounded out. How did they loose a six-foot man with tangerine hair? It was _impossible_. Orihime seemed to become worried.

"Ishida-kun," She said softly.

"Come with me." He grunted, taking her small wrist in his hand. Orihime jolted, surprised.

"E-Eh? Where are we going?"

"To eat. That imbecile is not keeping us behind schedule just because he wandered off." He replied venomously. As he pulled her towards a stand where many people stood, bargaining and asking for food, he paused and glanced down at her. She appeared anxious, but kept close to him. Ishida kept his hand idly on his sword – he would take apart anyone who tried to take a bite of her. But as he stared down at her, something caught his eye.

She seemed to detect his gaze and glanced up at him curiously with a small smile, "Are you alright, Ishida-kun? Is the noise bothering you?"

He frowned deeply, "No. Those clips…" Extremely rare, he could tell. Being the Princess of Japan, he supposed she would have them. But, other than today, he'd never seen them. At that moment, they were attached to her hair, pushing back her heavy bangs from her pretty face.

Instantly, a look flashed across Orihime's face before she smothered it with one of those forced smiles, "I-I'm sorry. Are they bothering you?" She moved her hand to remove them.

"No," he answered quickly, solemnly, "I am merely curious as to where you got them."

Orihime titled her head to the side and glanced up at the sky, as though in thought. After a second, a bright, large smile spread across her face, momentarily blinding him, "From Onii-chan."

His eyes narrowed. "Your brother?"

"Yep!"

"Orihime-san—" It happened without warning, really. One moment, he was staring at Orihime beautiful smile, and the next his head slammed against the counter of the outdoor stand. Everything went silent, and his ears rung, his head quaking with undeniable pain.

"I-Ishida-kun!" He vaguely heard Orihime cry in shock. Villagers backed away, shocked, and the owner of the stand even stepped back in trepidation. Before Ishida could even think of twisting away and grabbing his bow or sword, his left arm was twisting at a Godforsaken angle, and he cried out.

"Well, well, well, if it ain't the Quincy," a deep drawl said in his ear.

Uryu's eyes snapped back open, he hadn't even realize he'd closed them. It had been a long time since he'd been called _that_. A face was inches from his own – a familiar face – and he met the gaze of alight blue eyes.

His teeth gritted together as the fellow leered widely at him. He struggled, but Grimmjow pressed his hand harder into his cranium, digging his temple into the wood of the stand, "J-Jaegerjaquez…"

"The one an' only, asshole," the sapphire-haired man sneered.

Orihime watched in complete shock as the bright-haired man stood over her companion, pinning him to the counter, one hand holding his head down, and the other twisting his arm. She blinked a few times, attempting to calm down her rushing heart. She knew that she could not win in a fight against the man, that would be impossible with her tiny stature, but she could possibly distract him to get him away from Uryu. She stared at the flexing muscles and swallowed; he was about the same size as Ichigo, and appeared rather intimidating.

"H-Hey you!" She said, rather stridently. Her voice sounded like a mouse.

The blue-haired man frowned and glanced over his shoulder, "Huh?" There was a woman. She was probably a few years younger than him, but with a body like that he wouldn't mind breaking a few rules. She had long, sunset hair that reminded him an awful a lot of _someone_, and her skin was unblemished, smooth. Still, no matter how beautiful, he didn't enjoy being messed with when dealing with prey. He glared at her. She wasn't looking at him, as though she couldn't bear it, and her fists were clenched tight under her chin. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and if it weren't for the situation, he would've found this hilarious.

"Y-Y-You let him go right now, mister!" Orihime cried at him.

His face shifted, confusion splaying across it, along with bewilderment, "Huuuuh?" He turned fully towards her, but did not release his hold on the Quincy-blood, "Who da fuck do ya think ya are, bitch?"

Orihime's eyes widened. "That was mean!"

His eyebrow twitched violently, "Stay outta it, ya damn bitch! Ya have nothin' to do with this!" He returned his attention to Ishida, who was struggling to get himself from him. "Now, where were we…"

"Orihime-san! Get out of here!" Uryu called to her. Grimmjow grinned, jerking the arm almost out of its socket, teasing him. "Damn you…!"

Without warning, Orihime lunged towards the blue-haired man, "Let him go!" Just as she did Kurosaki, such a long time ago, she latched onto his back like a monkey and grasped his cheeks with both tiny hands. The stranger hollered in shock as Orihime yanked his cheeks unbelievably far from his face, "Let him go, let him go!"

"Get off, ya wench!" The man snarled, twisting this way and that to try and get away from her. Orihime only tightened her grip. Luckily, Ishida was able to detangle himself from the man's web, and stared in complete disbelief as the sapphire-haired writhed under Orihime's small wrath.

"Don't kill Ishida-kun! What did he ever do to you? Don't kill him, please, Stranger-san~!"

"Dammit, get off me!"

"I will conquer Strawberrytopia with my strength of twenty thousand little blue men!"

Ishida sweat-dropped heavily.

Finally, after a few colorful curses, and Orihime's begging, the blue-haired man managed to grab onto Orihime, and he threw her unceremoniously onto the stand, right where Uryu had been only moments ago. Orihime struggled, her back lighting with pain, and the stranger leaned over her with a glower enough to send her trembling. With astonishing speed, he wrapped his large hand around her throat, growling, "I'll kill you, bitch."

Orihime's eyes widened, and her lips parted, _"I-Ichigo…!"_

Ishida yanked out his sword, "Don't you da—"

_Black. _

Suddenly, there was a fine, familiar black blade over the blue-haired man's throat. The stranger paused, eyes widening, and then glanced over.

"K-Kurosaki…" The man breathed, "What the _fu_—"

"Let her go," Ichigo said lowly, his voice a deep rumble that sent shivers of relief down Orihime's spine. Slowly, he retracted his long fingers from around her throat and leaned away. Ichigo's blade stayed at his throat, and he didn't remove his gaze from the blue-eyed one as he asked, "You alright?"

Orihime sat up and tried to calm down her throbbing heart. With a bright smile and a salute, she said, "I'm fine, Ichigo!"

"Always getting into fuckin' trouble…" He returned his attention to the man, narrowing his dark eyes at him.

The stranger gaped, "Yer fuckin' _alive_?!"

"Of course he is," Another voice said. The crowd parted to reveal a young man, a very _familiar_ young man.

Orihime's eyes grew larger on her pretty face, "H-Hirako-kun!"

The blonde tsked as he made his way to the four, "Grimmjow, Grimmjow, Grimmjow," he shook his head sadly, "When will ya ever learn?"

Growling, the man named Grimmjow whipped around to face him, "Bastard, you told me he was fuckin' dead!"

Shinji grinned that wide grin of his, "I never said that."

"Yes, ya d—"

"Nah, I said that he won't be comin' back. I never said anythin' about dead."

"Same thing, ya assfucker!"

"Such language~"

Lazily, Ichigo strapped in his sword, "I knew this village looked familiar." He murmured, almost to himself. "No wonder that _midget_—"

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU CALLING MIDGET?!"

Orihime nearly shrieked in shock as a person clad in dark blue sailed into the air. The figure was rather small, but extremely fast, and their foot was launching straight towards Ichigo's head in astonishing speeds. With a deadpanned expression, Ichigo ducked effortlessly out of the way and the person landed on their feet gracefully. It was a woman, Orihime could see that now, and not much shorter than her. She had deep black hair that reached her chin, and had a sense of air about her that clearly said 'I'm the boss'. Orihime blinked at her as she placed her hands on her hips and glared up at Ichigo.

He turned towards her, frowning, "Listen, Rukia—"

This time, her kick did meet its required target. Orihime flailed in surprise as Ichigo spun, cried out, and fell. This was the first time she'd ever seen something like that. Quickly, she hopped down from the counter and rushed to Ichigo's side, who was holding his steaming cheek with an incredulous look on his face.

Rukia continued to shout at his back, "Right when I turn away, you take off like a sissy?! What're you, a girl?! If you ever do that again, I'll kill you!" She tousled her hair wildly, hollering all the while. For such a small person, she was rather loud, "AAH! It's just so shameful!"

"Yeesh," Shinji commented lazily, "She's so harsh."

Grimmjow merely glowered at Ishida, who glared back with the same intensity, "Why're ya even here, Quincy?"

"Don't come near me, Jaegerjaquez," Ishida warned lowly, tightening his grip on his sword.

"He's with me," Ichigo said, standing, and ignored the panicking Orihime hovering over him.

Shinji arched a brow as Grimmjow stared in belief, "You gotta be kiddin' me!"

"'Fraid he's not," the blonde said.

"So I can't kill him?" Grimmjow snarled.

Orihime squeaked, "P-Please don't…"

Rukia stared at Ishida, and then Orihime, and then glared at Ichigo, "You've got a lot of explaining to do."

**…**

**…**

The home was large, much larger than Yoruichi's home. Apparently, Rukia's home was the sign of the village. It was built as the symbol of an old war between the village and another, and the differences between the two. It was built as double towers connected, and quite wide, obtaining land from further east. It was easily described as one of the most beautiful things Orihime had ever seen.

"Fuck, shit! Rukia! Let me the fuck go!" Ichigo growled.

"Come with me," Rukia said, continuing to tug Ichigo by his right ear. He had to stoop over in order to keep up with her, and it would've been comical if not for the circumstances. Orihime watched silently as Ichigo was dragged in the house behind the small woman. Again, that unfamiliar feeling in her chest started to blossom. She ignored it vehemently.

"Oi, woman," Orihime glanced up, surprised. Grimmjow was behind her, arms crossed over his chest, "Go inside."

"Don't be so harsh with her, Grimmjow-kun," sang Shinji as he wormed his way in between the two, "After all, I don't the future mother of my children petrified of men."

Orihime flushed a deep scarlet as Ishida glared menacingly at Shinji. Grimmjow snorted, "Good luck, fucker. Berry-boy has a lock on that, dont'cha think?" He swaggered past Orihime and walked into the house, "OI! I'm hungry!" He bellowed to an idle servant, who shrieked in fear and scampered off, "AND MAKE SURE IT'S SATISFYING!" He called behind her.

"Y-Y-Y-Yes, sir!"

Shinji chuckled before retuning his attention to the redhead, who was already searching for Ichigo, tentatively poking her head in the house. After getting a full view of her tempting rear end, Shinji slid an arm around her small shoulders, "Don' be so scared, doll. Byakuya won't mind."

Orihime started, but her surprise was short-lived as Ishida pointed his blade straight over Shinji's shoulder, "I do not know you. Just because Kurosaki seems to be your ally, I am not. And I do not feel comfortable with you touching her in such a manner. Release Orihime-san."

Orihime watched as Shinji's grin widened, "Ah~ Orihime-chan, you have a feisty one," But he released her shoulders. Stepping back, he gestured dramatically to the entrance with a sweep of his hand. He bowed mockingly, "Please enjoy yer stay."

Ishida grunted, eyes tightening as he sheathed his sword. He grabbed Orihime's wrist again, "Come, Orihime-san."

Throwing Hirako an apologetic glance, she nodded, "R-Right." And followed her friend inside.

**…**

**…**

"Here."

Orihime jumped and glanced up. There stood Rukia, a hard look on her face. She was in Orihime's doorway. Though, she hadn't met Byakuya, the so-called owner of the home, he'd assigned her this room, right across from Ishida's, which made her feel a bit more safe. Still, with Grimmjow in the home and the multiple terrified servants, she found it hard to relax. The room was large, and she could see the sun perfectly setting through the doors in the back. There was a collection of books on the far wall, where she stood, and the futon was comfortably set in the other corner of the room and a few candles for light.

"T-Thank you," Orihime said, stepping towards the shorter woman, who stood with her arm outstretched. She was holding a bundle of clothing – small – and it was a dark navy, covered in a beautiful design of black flowers. The obi was folded under it, a stark orange, and fresh sandals. She was relieved; her clothes were beginning to become a nuisance. She took the clothing.

"No problem," Rukia replied offhandedly, despite the tense atmosphere. She crossed her arms over her chest, "Orihime, right?"

Orihime nodded with a small, friendly smile.

"What's your relationship with Ichigo?"

Orihime jolted at the name. Just the sound of it could have her stomach erupting into butterflies. Rukia narrowed her violet, pretty eyes at her reaction. Attempting to force another smile, Orihime murmured, "W-What're you talking about, Kuchiki-san?"

"Oh, don't give me that. Ichigo doesn't just bring any kind of girl back," Orihime opened her mouth to protest, but Rukia cut her off, "And that damn Quincy-blood is with you. You've obviously done something to stop Ichigo from killing that guy. What was it? Are you the reason he's been missing?" Orihime went to say something again, but Rukia continued, "I tried to ask him about you, but he nearly went nuts. It's weird. He's never been this possessive of a girl since Senna."

Orihime's hands bunched into the clothing. Another woman that knew Ichigo more than she did. It made her stomach twist up. With sickeningly intuition, she realized that she was jealous of yet another woman in Ichigo's life. First, it had been Yoruichi, but she was quick to get over it. Senna was still raging fresh in her mind, and as she watched Rukia talk about Ichigo as though she knew him like the back of her hand, she found herself regretting again.

She was so helplessly in love that it hurt sometimes.

Rukia heaved a sigh, startling Orihime from her thoughts, "It doesn't really matter to me," she said, and Orihime blinked, "I approve anyway."

Orihime gazed at her, helplessly confused, "…Approve?"

"You have big boobs. That's a winner in my book." Orihime's mouth fell open a second too late, and Rukia grinned wickedly before skipping out of the room, "Feel free to join us for dinner." She sang.

"W-Wait! Kuchiki-san, where is Ichi—" The door slammed shut. Orihime deflated.

_Onii-chan, what did I get myself into?_

**…**

**…**

"Did you hurt her?"

"No."

"Did you poison her?"

"No."

"…Did you say something to her?"

"Yes."

"What the fuck did you say?"

"I'm not telling~"

Furiously, Ichigo glowered at his best friend across the table. A bowl full of rice was in her lap, and she was happily munching on her chicken. She was gleefully humming about something, but other than that, she appeared normal. After lecturing him earlier today, he'd expected her to be in a bad mood. He'd left them for God knows how long, and then just showed up out of the blue, he could understand her hurt and confusion, but instead of blowing everyone away with her one-woman storm of violence, she sat there, signing to herself and eating.

Even Renji was staring at her incredulously, who'd shown up, rather surprised to see Ichigo with Ishida and a redheaded beauty, but decided not to question it. Instead, he dug into his food, and ignored the glares Ishida was sending to him for having bad table manners.

Finally, Ichigo seemed to have enough, "You little—"

"A-Ano, Kuchiki-san…"

Ichigo glanced up, and relief literally poured into his body. Finally, he heard her damn voice. He didn't know that her simple presence could keep him from murdering someone. Rukia and Renji glanced up in unison, noodles hanging from Renji's mouth and Rukia appeared excited about something.

"Yes, Orihime?"

Ichigo glared at her.

Again, from the hallway, Orihime said meekly, "I don't think this kimono fits. I-It's too small."

Ichigo's glare became fiercer. Renji frowned.

Rukia grinned, "Oh, it's not really a kimono, Orihime. Come out. Lemme see it."

"B-But—"

Instantly, a dark, powerful aura surrounded Rukia, and her eyes glowed crimson. Renji almost fell onto his face, and cowered backwards, "LET ME SEE IT!"

Orihime squealed, "H-Hai!" There was the familiar clumsy footsteps, and then the woman stepped into the light.

Renji paused.

Ishida paused.

Shinji and Grimmjow paused.

Even the _wind_ paused.

Rukia grinned, holding up the 'V' sign, "It looks cute~!" Instantly, Grimmjow and Renji broke out in nosebleeds, the blood spouting out of their nostrils like a fountain and they both fell back in unison. Shinji grinned and Ishida choked on his food.

_Cute_ was the wrong word. Ichigo drank in the newly revealed skin greedily. Of course, Orihime had been right – the outfit _was_ too small. It barely reached her upper thighs. Her long, shapely legs were exposed, and Ichigo dragged his eyes up from her tiny toes, to her firm calves, and the milky skin of her soft thighs. The dark color went well with her ivory skin and hair, and the bright obi clenched around her waist, a large bow in the back, over her well-rounded bottom, and the sleeves were loose. Orihime flushed a deep pink.

"I-I'm so sorry! I don't t-think this is appropriate and—"

Ichigo snapped out of his daze and ignored the tightening of his abdomen. He glowered angrily at Rukia, "What the fuck is she wearing?!" He barked at her.

Rukia smirked, "You don't like it?"

Ichigo stood, slamming his hands on the low table as Grimmjow and Renji twitched, "Fuck no!"

Rukia arched a brow, "And why's that? Rangiku's the one who sent it to me."

"Rangiku? What the hell?" Ichigo snarled. He glanced at Orihime once more, where she was standing awkwardly, eyes locking with his for a split second before she looked away in embarrassment. Ichigo huffed. Rukia watched with clear amusement as Ichigo stood and stalked right past Orihime, and out of the room.

Orihime blinked, "K-Kurosaki-san!" She called behind him. She prepared to follow him, but Shinji took that chance to wrap his sinewy arm around her small shoulders. He grinned at her with a smile big enough to split his face in two.

"Eep!" A maid squealed as she stepped in a puddle of Grimmjow's nose blood.

Renji waved a limp hand at her, "We need towels…"

"Y-Y-Y-Yes, sir!"

Rukia's smile widened, "This is gonna be fun."

Ishida glared at her, "For you."

**…**

**…**

Orihime gasped, and sat upright. It must've been too fast, because her head swirled and she almost fell back to the sweaty futon under her. Her hair was everywhere, tangled and sticking to the exposed, damp skin of her collarbone, cheeks, and forehead. She panted, tightening her fingers around the clips in her hand.

"J…Just another nightmare," she whispered to herself, as though that would smooth down her anxiety and terror. Onii-chan had been in front of her only seconds ago, blood on his face, on his body, leaking towards her, calling her name hollowly, again and again, until her ears rung with _Orihime, Orihime, Orihime_—

She placed her hands over her ears, trembling as the night's air burned her skin. She could hear him, calling to her, begging her to fulfill his dreams. A part of her wished she could just leave everything behind, run away from it, but the memories continued to haunt her, the head on the bed, the blood staining the floor, and their whispered promises to each other.

_Orihime, Orihime, Orihime—_

"Make it stop…"

_Orihime, Orihime, Orihime—_

"No. No. No."

_Orihime, Orihime, Orihi—_

"Orihime."

There was suddenly warmth. She gasped, nearly choking, and she was suddenly pulled into warm, strong arms. It was if a furnace had been pressed against her front, and under her ear, she could hear a strong heartbeat, steady and full of life. She wanted to struggle, her mind told her to, but her body and heart wouldn't listen. Instead, she turned her face into his chest to stop the tears.

Her trembling did not subside until a few minutes later. When it did, Ichigo placed his hand against the back of her neck and pulled back.

"Open your eyes," His voice was huskier than usual. Orihime tensed, but her wet eyelashes fluttered and revealed a honey gaze. She gasped sharply, nearly falling backward, but he kept a tight grip on her. His eyes were _burning_ down at her, pulling something primal and hungry from her. Her fear subsided and her heart quickened almost instantly. She wanted to close her eyes again, look away, but he refused to her let her, not when he was looking at her like that.

Somehow she found her voice, "K-Kuros—"

"You were having a nightmare." He said. It was not a question. Orihime shied away. His eyes hardened, "How long have you been having them?"

"N-Not very long." She murmured. It was no use telling him a lie. He would just see right through it.

He tightened his hand around her neck, tangling his fingers further into the hair, "Why didn't you tell me?"

She blinked rapidly, and more tears spilled, "It's not like it would have mattered, Kurosaki-san."

"And what the hell does that mean?"

She tensed even further at his tone, "It means you haven't been exactly concerned with me, Kurosaki-san," she said. This wasn't good. It seemed whenever she tried to connect with Ichigo, it always ended the same. She would get upset, Ichigo would get frustrated, and their walls would get thicker, creating a barrier between the two. She nearly sighed, but he narrowed his quickly darkening eyes. "You've been ignoring me," she whispered, "And I don't get why. I-I said I would leave and…and…"

She didn't even have enough time to register Ichigo's eyes flashing at her choice of words before he was kissing her. It wasn't a simple brief kiss, and he did not give her enough time to decide. Orihime gasped, inhaling his scent quickly to commit it to memory. Her hands moved on their own, and caught into his top, clinging to him, violent sparks tore down on her body. She realized that he was the only one who could create such sensations to her body, and she wouldn't wish it any other way.

She was making those sounds again as she gripped his top harder, tighter, bringing him even closer. She wanted to burrow into his scent and warmth – it was so very intoxicating. He ate at her lips, and bit her bottom lip, drawing it away sharply before delving his tongue inside to conquer. Her whimpers barely reached her own ears, the blood was pumping everywhere anyway, and she felt his hands – one bunching into her hair almost violently, and the other gripping her bottom, yanking her towards him roughly.

Everything was spiraling out of control again and she couldn't control herself. It seemed as though Ichigo was in the same predicament. His tongue followed hers and intertwined hotly, sending Orihime's stomach in tight bundles. Ichigo growled deep in his throat, bringing up both hands to her head, one opening her jaw wider so he could taste more, and the other fisting her hair. She tried to keep up with him, and she was surprised when she felt the scorching skin. Somehow, her hands had dipped under his top and were now running over the hard abdominals underneath.

His muscles flexed under her soft touch, and he hauled her even closer. She was in his lap by this point, and the skirt of her kimono hiked up even more, revealing even more untouched white skin. He left her face to grip her right thigh and splayed it open so she was straddling him. A small part of her wanted to fight for control, but his palm trailing her back pressed against her bottom and pulled her hips forward against something hard. Orihime was not naïve, as most would think, she was sure she knew what it was. They were frantic at that point, hungry and desperate for the feel and taste of each other. Orihime bit into his tongue brazenly, wildly, and he groaned loudly. She gasped as he thrust his hips upwards, sending her world in spirals. He was the one to break the kiss, opening her legs even wider to find a more persuasive position.

He gritted his teeth as he pushed up again and she pushed back down, "Fuck, Kitten," he hissed harshly, and she burned.

"I-Ichigo…Ichigo…" She panted, and he kissed a fiery trail down her neck. He placed open-mouthed kisses on the delicate skin, and she whimpered, almost overtaken by the unbearable pleasure. It was bordering on violent, rough, but she could not find anything in her caring. She gasped so hard, she almost choked when he raised the hand from thigh and grasped her heavy breast in his palm.

He squeezed, and light burst behind her eyelids. She could not think straight anymore as the sensations rocketed through her body, pure heaven as she rocked onto the steely length underneath her. She had expected herself to be more proper, give herself properly to a man, the man she would marry, but as she loosened his shirt, and he pulled it from his body, she could not find anything in the world that would stop her.

"Screw this," he snarled breathlessly against her ear. She shuddered and he pulled back a bit to look into her eyes. She almost shivered again at the stare. He looked like a predator, someone who wanted to devour her, as though he wanted to taste everything she had to offer. The thought had her heart hammering against her ribcage.

He swiped his thumb across her hard nipple under the fabric.

Orihime's mouth fell open at the dizzying pleasure that erupted from deep inside of her. Instinctively, she pushed down on the hard length under her, and let out a silent cry. Ichigo watched her, dragging his eyes from the teary gaze, pink blush, and swollen lips.

"Kitten," he growled. He kissed her again, and she dug her nails into his shoulders, grasping onto him desperately. The kiss was hard and fierce, sending her emotions everywhere.

She moaned wordlessly under him, unable to form a proper sentence besides his name, "Ichigo…please…" She gasped out. He rocked his hips forward, hissing as she dragged her nails up from the base of his spine to his shoulders subconsciously. Her eyes were squeezed shut at this point, and she was trying to keep the moans quiet, vaguely realizing how quiet it was in the house and Uryu was just across the hall.

She was not sure what she wanted, what she was begging for, but he seemed to know. He grasped her breast and yanked it to his mouth. The heat of his mouth through the thin material was enough for her to see stars. She craved more, the scorching heat of his mouth was resounding down to her belly, multiplying even more.

"I need to touch you," his voice was raspy, husky, and it sent shivers up her spine. Orihime blinked, trying to find a way out of this daze he had created in her mind. She wanted to tell him that he was already touching her, but she found herself unable to move as he moved.

And then he touched the area between her legs.

Orihime jolted, a small scream escaping her throat. There was no other pleasure better than _that_. Heat pooled between her legs, and the sensation in her belly amplified, causing her skin to buzz. She writhed in his hold, growing desperate, and he watched her face intensely, watching every change of expression. The air was thicker, difficult to breathe in with her struggling lungs. She was blushing with embarrassment as he glanced down between her legs, and traced her folds, through the cotton of her undergarment.

His fingers soon latched on the hard bundle of nerves at the apex of her sex. Orihime cried out, and Ichigo smothered her down with a kiss. It distracted her, but as he began to move his finger, she found keeping the noises at bay was impossible. She struggled to get closer to him.

He cursed and she barely had enough time to think before the top of her kimono was yanked open and her collarbone and breasts were exposed. She barely registered it for a full second before his mouth closed over a nipple and his burning tongue swiped over it. She moaned stridently, her back arching on its own accord. She remembered saying his name freely, and he panted, pushing a long finger inside of her.

She was lost in sensations, unable to speak or form a thought as he moved it back, and then forward. A small scream escaped her throat and tore the eerily cold, quiet night. Slowly, he curled the finger while pressing his thumb against her clit and watched with vivid intensity as her pupils dilated and her mouth opened, and her hair tangled around her beautifully.

"Orihime…" He murmured, pulling her flush against him. Her small toes curled in pleasure from his voice. She kissed him, tugging him closer with her nails in his back, moaning mindlessly as he began to move the finger within her. She could not breathe, she could not think as he added another finger, thrusting the two faster.

Her face contorted, pleasure-ridden. She felt herself being torn at the seams, pulled apart, and she tried to hold onto anything she could grab, little pieces of herself that were now traveling over to Ichigo. Wetness dribbled down onto her thighs, and she whined, as he pressed closer, twisting his fingers, and pressed his thumb hard against her little nub. Orihime's reaction was instantaneous, she cried out again, and her nails dug deeper than before.

Ichigo hissed and shuddered in pleasure, watching his fingers come in and out of her, "Kitten, I need you to let go for me."

She did not understand. The intense pleasure was almost too much, overbearing, and her tear ducts acted up from the excruciating desire, the throbbing in her belly, and the sounds that refused to be contained. Her tears overflowed and went down her cheeks.

Ichigo smirked, going faster and faster until her toes began to cramp and her stomach felt like it would explode, "_I-Ichigo_!"

"That's it…" He whispered, lying open-mouthed kisses from her jaw to her nipples. His fingers curled against the spongy spot under her pelvis, and she bucked uncontrollably, whining, "That's my girl."

"Oh…!" She gasped out. She tried to find something to hold onto, something mentally that wouldn't throw her overboard, but she could only see his fiery eyes, hear his dark words, and taste his scent in the air.

"Let go, Orihime," he murmured, and she found herself doing just that.

The first wave of pleasure tore through her so sharply, she thought it could be pain. She vaguely heard herself making noises, noises she'd never made ever before in her life, but she was thrown so far away from reality, she couldn't bring herself to care. It was addictive, and she fell apart right beneath him. She didn't not mean to let the three words slip from her lips, but somehow, they did, and she couldn't bring herself to care.

He pulled her flat against his chest and mercilessly continued his pace, until she went limp in his arms. She panted, beads of sweat sticking to her sweet skin. Silently, he watched as she lied her head against his chest, and her breathing deepened.

She fell asleep.

His expression darkened.

That was fine. He'd already heard what she had to say. He brushed the sweaty hair from her forehead and leaned down to kiss her lips almost tenderly. Her soft, little breaths made him shiver.

"Mark my words, Kitten, I'm gonna figure out what you're hiding from me," he murmured against her lips, "And when I do, there'll be hell to pay."

He did not know what it was that had him so attached. He might as well call it love, shouldn't he?

His eyes narrowed as he stared down at the beautiful sleeping girl.

_Fuck. He was so screwed. _

**…**

**…**

**Yay! I finished! This one is kinda early, but not really. I wanted to post it for Christmas, but I failed. Oh, well, at least you got it the morning of the day after Christmas…Whatever. I hoped you liked this one. I wanted to bring Orihime and Ichigo closer since they're running out of time. **

**The next chapter, everyone is going to be working together, and I can't wait to see how you all react to them. I feel kinda sorry for Ichigo. He never wanted to fall in love...sigh...but who can resist Hime-chan?! NO ONE! That's who.**

**How'd you like the lemon? I know I did~! **

**Review for me. I love you guys~ Oh, and merry Christmas!**

**-Star**


	14. Chapter 14

**…**

**…**

Sunlight.

The first thing Orihime noticed was the light. It was truly a nuisance, somehow making all of her five senses drown out. Even her ears were roaring. Timidly, she fluttered her eyes open, only to shrink away at the overwhelming intensity. She waited a few seconds, watching as the sunlight painted her eyelids red, and then peeled them open once more. It wasn't as hard as last time, but when she even managed to move her neck, she realized her current _situation_.

_"…Eh?!" _

She didn't dare move an inch. Under her ear, she could hear the slow, calming lull of his heartbeat. Instantly, she could tell it was him from the scent, the hard muscles, the length of his body, and the way her own started to react towards him. Daringly, she clenched her fists in his clothes, on his chest, as she listened to the sound of his heart. It was almost like a lullaby and it made her eyelids feel heavy.

_What is he_, she yawned, _doing in here, anyway…? I wonder._

And then last night flashed through her weary mind.

She inhaled sharply, eyes snapping open, and her heart spiked. She could see it clearly now—the nightmare, the tears, his embrace, his breathy words, his lips on hers, his sweltering heat, his demanding fingers, her silent, needy cries, her toes curled, light burst, _and then_—

_Oh, Kami-sama…_

Panting, she licked her lips. Just thinking about it made her breath catch. Suddenly, her body felt different, foreign. Her breasts felt heavy, her clothes felt too constricting, and the hidden place was pulsing with warmth and need. Whimpering, she tried to sit up, but her aching muscles protested. It was odd, she was sure she hadn't—well, done _that_ with him. With a fiery blush, she slowly released her death grip on his clothes, and made one last attempt to sit up.

And that was when his hips lifted and pressed firmly against hers.

She gave a loud, startled cry at the fierce pleasure. Startled, she looked at his face. He was closer than she had thought, and she gasped as she met his intense eyes. Keeping their gazes locked, he moved again, this time with a sharper angle. Orihime's lips parted, and she tried to bite back the keen attempting to leave her throat. A boyish, handsome smirk crossed over his face, and she watched as he sat up, slinging an arm over her waist. Her legs practically fell open for him, something that frightened her—the way she reacted to him so swiftly, willingly.

Heat gathered in her belly, demanding for some sort of release. Again, she was confused. This was what happened last night, this same feeling. It was overwhelming in its intensity, enough to make her tremble, enough to make her heart still and her brain to go blank. She tightened her grip on him, desperate to be closer to him, wishing for skin on skin, wanting that imperfect hot skin that she suddenly wanted to bite and lick and find each and every scar and flaw until she was satisfied.

Ichigo seemed to match her passion. He tightened his clutch around her hips, an almost feral, dangerous look in his eye. When he kissed her, she was startled, gasping into his mouth, and he took that chance to delve in, taking what he wanted. His tongue met hers in harsh strokes, and she was practically a mess when they parted. A thin trail of saliva stuck to their lips until it broke away.

Ichigo stared at her dazed expression – swollen lips, carnal, spice-brown eyes, and rosy cheeks. And all _his_. And now it was time to show her that. He fisted her luscious red-gold locks in one hand and pressed her closer with the other. Her full breasts pushed into his chest, and he groaned deep in his throat, trailing quick, hard kisses down her milky neck to the skin of her shoulder. Her kimono's sleeve fell away, and he took that chance to wipe his tongue over the flesh and then close his mouth over it, violently desperate for the taste of her skin.

Orihime cried out, digging her nails into his shoulders. She clawed away his top, and he released her only for a millisecond to toss it somewhere across the room. And, _damn_, that felt so much fuckin' better as she pressed her palms into his shoulder blades before burrowing her nails in harshly, keening when he licked down to her ample cleavage.

His scent, his warmth, his heart—she wanted it all. Every single last bit. Frantically, she clutched him closer, wishing to commit this to memory, wishing for this moment to last forever. To be with _him_ forever.

Last night flashed again.

_"I love you, Ichigo. I love you, so much." _

Ah.

Look at her. Again, she was like a fairytale princess. She thought that, somehow, she would get her 'Fairytale Ending', even though it was impossible. It was more likely for her to die than to be with Ichigo, and somehow, she knew the first would happen if she would ever to choose the latter. She stiffened, feeling her tear ducts swell.

_No. No. No._

She didn't want to ruin this moment, she didn't want to ruin anything, but—

Ichigo paused almost instantaneously when he felt the change. For a second, he vaguely wondered why he was so in tune with the girl. He pulled back, and was quite surprised to see her eyes fill up and the tears course down. Cursing, he released his grip on her hair and hips, before he thought better of it and reached towards her face. Hesitating, he hovered.

And then he watched her raise her small, clenched fists to her eyes and cry like a newborn.

_Shit. _

He touched her waist this time, gently. The gentlest he had ever been with her. Possibly, the gentlest thing he'd ever done since his life fell apart in front of his very eyes. But he supposed this was acceptable, since Orihime _was_ the gentlest creature he had met since then. Narrowing his eyes up at her, it took all his willpower to not pry her hands from her face and kiss her senseless until she stopped crying.

She keened, deep in her throat, and he tensed. It sounded painful, lost. He cursed again, kneading the soft flesh of her waist. He waited, and waited, and waited some more, until she was finally done. She calmed down little by little, her eyes moist and frightened, lips trembling, and her cheeks wet.

He reached up a hand and wiped his thumb over the tear-tracks, keeping it soft. And then she looked down at him and blushed a deep red.

"O-O-Oh! I'm so, so, so sorry, Ichigo! Did I get my tears on you? I-I wasn't loud, was I? I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," he replied, his tone lower and huskier than usual. And he knew why. A half-naked, beautiful woman was straddling him, lips swollen and tempting, eyes wet and earnest, and even though she was despairing on the inside, he was still trying to keep in his lust. He'd never felt anything like this before, after all. He was used to grabbing and fucking that it'd became a second nature with women.

Like with Senna. It hadn't been emotions, just raw passion and desire, and he thought that had something to do with love, like a fool. So, as he watched her cry, there was no way he knew what the fuck to do. Was he supposed to keep up or slow down? It was all so unsettling that it made his skin prickle. He fuckin' hated not knowing what to do.

"Why…" he swallowed, trying to ignore the throbbing in his pants and attempting to focus on the throbbing in his heart, "Why are you crying?"

That only seemed to worsen things. She broke out in another round of tears, placing her hands over her face to keep his gaze away.

"Kitten," he said, frustrated, "I can't help you if you don't tell me what—"

_"I want to say all the things I know I can't!"_

Ichigo blinked, stupefied as she blubbered in front of him, a broken sun compared to the original. Desperately, she wiped her face, only to receive a fresh wave of tears. Shaking her head, her amber locks wafted around her slumped shoulders.

"Orihime." He said her name sternly, tightening his grip around her hips. She did not reply or listen, "Orihi—"

"I told y-you I loved you last night, didn't I?"

Ichigo felt his heart turn over and do some weird shit. Damn. This was not what he thought this would be. It frustrated him, but also sent him dangling on the ledge of euphoria and affection. He wasn't sure if she had asked a rhetorical question or maybe she was waiting for an answer.

She dropped her hands, placing them on his abdomen. The stomach muscles jumped at her tender touch. She touched the long scar on his side, keeping her gaze on that safe spot. He tried not to shake at her touch and kiss her again.

"I…" She swallowed thickly, "I shouldn't have said that." She whispered, ice frozen in her veins, "I should've kept to myself. I should've left. I should've stopped this before it even star—_Hmph_!"

Yeah. He kissed her. He was tired of waiting anyway, and it was a good way to shut her up. She struggled a bit, something he wanted to grin at—because there was absolutely _no way_ she could deny him anything, as if he would let her. He kissed her hungrily, savoring her taste, wishing he could delve deeper and strip away every lie and secret until he was satisfied. In fact, that sounded like a great fuckin' idea. He knew there was something she wasn't telling him, something she was hiding.

He tangled his fingers in her heavy hair, rubbing his thumbs against her cheeks to wipe away the tears. She didn't fight anymore; she melted underneath him, pliant and needy. Just the way he liked her. When he was satisfied, he panted, placing his forehead on hers.

She was flushed a delicate pink, large eyes still watery, and her lips kiss-bruised. He cupped her face, "Damn. You piss me off."

She jerked, startled at his choice of words.

"You piss me off." He repeated, "I was doing just fuckin' great without you and then you just show up and fuck everything up."

Orihime blinked several times, before her expression began to cloud over, hurt. She opened her mouth—maybe to apologize, but he kissed her again, a quick stab of desire in his lower abdomen. She gasped sharply against his lips, her nails digging in subconsciously. He groaned, a deep, low sound in the back of his throat.

"And, _fuck_, I love you for it."

She stiffened, and he kneaded the soft flesh of her waist as some kind of comfort. She pulled back, and stared at him with those watery, honey eyes. And then she smiled. Something dropped in him, possibly sweet relief as her smiled widened and grew brighter. Her tears seemed to be the last thing on her mind as she cupped his face tenderly with her small hands.

He kissed her fingertips as she beamed. He scowled back. And she giggled, burrowing her face into his shoulder. As she rested her chin on his shoulder, he held her close, breathing in her comforting scent, and tried not to touch her inappropriately. He sighed. He was losing to the mushy-bullshit, he swore. He would probably have to go beat up someone just to get his balls back. He was sure she wasn't aware she held them in her tiny fist, along with his heart. Shit, she barely believed anything he said.

"Hey," he grumbled, "are you making fun of me?"

"No, no," She shook her head, smiling, "I'm…I'm just very, very happy." She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, inhaling his beautiful scent, "Very happy."

His scowl softened by a degree. Tugging her closer, he rested his chin on the crown of her head. It felt as if he didn't hold her tight enough, she would vanish. The idea was oddly frightening. He knew some shit was up, he knew that bastard Ishida had something on his mind, and he fuckin' _knew_ Kitten was trying to leave at some point, no matter how strong her love was. He nearly snapped at the thought – the most beautiful thing to ever come across him and it wanted to flee. Screw that.

"…A-Ano…Ichigo? You're suffocating me." Orihime squeaked out.

"Oh. Oh! Shit. Sorry." He pulled her back from him, holding her at arms' length. She was still smiling with rosy cheeks. "Sorry."

Orihime blinked again before she grinned, "Ne, Ichigo, it's surprising."

He glared at her, knowing what was to come.

"You've…" Her eyes turned liquid, softer, "You've really changed. It makes me happy."

"Tch," he scoffed, "Everything makes you happy."

Puffing out her cheeks, she replied, "Not everything. Not dead dragonflies."

Ichigo arched a brow, "Dragonflies?"

"Un! Tatsuki-chan and I used to always catch dragonflies outside the Gardens and she would always catch more than me. So whenever I grabbed them too roughly, they would die. It made me sad until Mother would call me in for supper. I usually forgot by then and Tatsuki-chan would always tease me about it." She laughed, her eyes shining from the memories.

Ichigo's eyebrow climbed higher. Although it was nice to know something else from her life, he didn't miss that strange notion, "Gardens? So you lived in a nice house, huh?"

Orihime blinked owlishly, her wet lashes brushing against her cheekbones. Her expression changed, unreadable, "Eh? Did I say something like that?"

His eyes narrowed. As if he would buy that innocent act. He opened his mouth to make her pry, but then they both heard the loud footsteps a moment too late.

"Orihime! Just how long are you intending to stay in bed? You're just as lazy as Ichigo, I swear—" The door was thrust open and then there was silence. There stood Kuchiki Rukia, arms limp by her sides, and a look of surprise passing over her delicate face.

Ichigo glared at her as Orihime squeaked in his arms. To the redhead's shock, Rukia peeled off her sandal and struck it over Ichigo's defenseless head.

"What the—Get _off_ her, Ichigo!" She snarled, batting him again and again with the unexpected weapon.

"DAMMIT!" Ichigo raged, rising to his feet the next second. Orihime slipped off him, emitting a startled cry, "Don't hit me, you little shit!"

"You deserve it! What were you doing to her?" Rukia demanded, her gaze as sharp as knives.

"We were talking!"

"Yeah, about your dick!"

"K-K-Kuchiki-san~ Please!"

**…**

**…**

She paced.

And while she paced, she thought of her daughter. Her eyes narrowed, _that useless thing. _

Sneering her upper lip, she watched as the sun hung in the sky, dazzling her eyes, lighting up her castle, her Kingdom. Well, she thought, disdained, not for long. When her precious daughter came back, there wasn't much that she would be able to do. She was getting old, you see, she was withering in her riches and luxuries. A shame, she wanted to think, but she knew this bitterness she held towards the world was the reason. And the jealously, towards her daughter, the unrealistic beauty she saw in that girl's face.

Sometimes, when the girl was younger, she had wanted to creep to her room and cut off that gorgeous face, place it over her own just to see if it would look better. Maybe that was why Sora had been so protective of the girl, because he saw the way she looked at her. She would always stare at her long mane of golden-crimson tresses with a sense of hunger, those features that would melt into a smile, and that creamy, perfect skin with malice. Sometimes, she was glad Sora was dead—she didn't have to deal with his glare that he would always send to her.

Oh, well.

It wasn't as if his death did anything to the Kingdom. It didn't really matter to her. And it wasn't exactly her fault. With a sigh, she dug into her corset, under the frills, and found the locket. Pure gold, she thought with a smirk as she opened it. And there he was, the wavy, luscious brown locks, and the cool chocolate eyes. Her smirk widened.

_Her first love. _

"Empress?"

She jerked, startled from her memories and thoughts. Turning, she saw the line of soldiers, each bowed, while the Captain Hisagi standing with his eyes stern and solemn.

"Yes?"

"She has been sighted."

Those words, she hadn't been intending to hear them. The Captain watched as her smile stretched wide, eyes gleaming, and she tucked something back into her dress. With a soft chuckle, she said, "Are you certain?"

He jolted, surprised, "Er…Yes, Empress. Lieutenant Kuchiki in Sokyoku saw her crossing towards Sokyoku. No mistaking it, either. Long, red hair, hazel eyes, and, well," Hisagi averted his gaze, "_Endowed_."

The Empress smiled, "Yes. That is certainly her." Tapping her chin, she mused aloud, "Sokyoku, that's ways away, Orihime…"

Hisagi stared up at her, "Empress?"

"Send them out." She waved her hand, "Find her. Smoke her out, if you have to. And whoever is with her, you kill them."

"Yes, Empress." They all said in unison. She watched as they stood, bowed, and began to leave. "Oh, and Hisagi." The black-haired turned, "Please alert Ulquiorra-sama."

"Yes, Empress."

She sat down on her throne.

_Oh, Orihime, you worry me so._

**…**

**…**

"If I were the rain, could I connect with someone's heart, just as it can unite the eternally separated earth and sky?"

"Huh?"

Orihime jerked, surprised, "I-Ichigo!"

He was standing in the threshold of Rukia's large home, scowling. Frowning at her, he stepped down the three steps.

"Isn't it dinnertime?" Orihime asked, tilting her head, "Shouldn't you be inside?"

"Shouldn't you?" countered Ichigo as he stopped in front of her. Glancing up at the clouds, he spoke again, "It's gonna rain."

She smiled brightly, a stark contrast to the dreary outside, "Yes. It makes me happy."

He arched a brow, "Happy?" He demanded incredulously before snorting, "Yeah, right."

Brow creasing, she inquired, "It doesn't make you happy."

"Why would it make me happy?"

"The water is giving the land life. Besides, it's really pretty, the clouds, the air, even the lightening is really, really shiny." The dark clouds were still ways away, but Orihime watched them as though they were the sun about to breach the sky. Ichigo scowl deepened.

"It was raining when my life fell apart."

Orihime looked up at him, surprised. A strange look passed over his face, his eyes narrowed. "H-How did your life fall apart?" She asked hesitantly. The man she loved was a man of many secrets, she knew that. Some that she wished to know and others that she would rather be kept in the dark about. Secrets that carried blood and hate and tears, secrets that were enough to break her heart.

"Lots of ways," he shrugged, "…The rain doused out the fires." A vague, lost look passed through his eyes before he smothered it, returning his attention to her. She appeared worried. He lifted a hand and pressed his thumbs to her warm, pink lips, "What were you talkin' about earlier?"

It wasn't a lot, but it diverted her attention, "E-Earlier?" She turned rosy under his fingertips, breaths coming out shorter.

He smirked, "You were saying somethin' about the rain." She appeared even more confused, "Connecting it with someone's heart."

"Oh!" She smiled a bit, sheepishly, "You heard that?"

"I try to hear everything you say," He murmured, tone strangely low, "I don't wanna miss any of this."

Orihime didn't have enough time to be surprised. He leaned forward and his lips were suddenly taking away her breath, her words, her reason. Her eyelids fluttered closed, lips parting in acceptance, she thought, _how could I love him anymore than this?_

He tied a hand into her hair, cupping the nape of her neck, pressing forward, demanding more. His head always fuzzed up whenever he kissed her, came in contact with her. Orihime tried to match his passion, he could tell, but he always managed to beat her, dominate her with a single stroke of his tongue.

_Mom, a long time ago, you told me my name meant protect._

He kissed her harder, hauling her body flush against his. Lust tore through him sharply, and he groaned deep in his throat, feeling her merge her body to his, the delicious curves that would always be trapped in his mind.

_After everyone's death, I found I couldn't believe what you had said. _

Orihime wasn't completely innocent either. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

_What could I possibly protect?_

"I love you," She whispered against his lips, tightening her grip around his neck.

_But now, I finally found something. _

He wrenched his lips away from hers, tasting her scent and breathing in her flavor. She was soft and pliant under him.

_I found something that I can protect, something I can cherish for a while now._

Slowly, he untangled himself from her, keeping in mind to be gentle, to treasure this. Treasure her for all that she is worth. Slowly, he dragged his hand from her neck to her shoulder, down her arm, and took her little hand in his. It was much softer and small, but it had saved lives countless times, he had watched.

She seemed startled when he intertwined their hands together, large spice-brown eyes blinking up at him. And then, she smiled. A bright smile full of sunshine and trust. A smile that he was oddly possessive of. A smile that he would cherish until the end of his days. She was blushing again and he smiled—not a smirk, but a boyish smile that was filled with genuine bliss.

Orihime beamed right back.

_This, right here, mom, _he squeezed her hand, _is it. _

**…**

**…**

It had been quiet that night.

After dinner—Grimmjow stuffing his face, Renji hollering, Rukia telling them to mind their manners, Ishida annoyed, the quiet Sado in the corner, Ichigo shouting at every maid that came and left, and Orihime happy the entire time—Orihime had climbed into her futon.

Ichigo had said they were leaving tomorrow morning, as soon as possible. She didn't mind, as long as she was able to wake to him, just him. It was also warm, maybe because of the humidity. It was so close to raining, she wondered if the clouds would explode.

_Creak. _

Orihime's eyes opened. She could already tell who it was. It was warm, yet hard. And it slipped into the futon with her. Happily, she cuddled to him, arms around neck, lips at throat, legs tangling together, and his breath on her cheek.

He pressed his hand against her back, bringing her closer.

"Shit."

Orihime blinked, frowning. "What is it?"

He didn't reply, burrowing deeper into her. A hand on her bottom and back to hold her as close as possible. Orihime flushed pink, but her concern outdid her embarrassment.

"Ichigo? What's wrong? Did the little blue men invade Strawberrytopia?!"

"Shh!" He hissed, "Dammit, no!"

"Then what is it?" Again, he was quiet. Like a kid, she thought joyfully, amusement clear, "Ichigo, you can tell me anything. Swear!"

"…I.…" He mumbled the rest.

"Eh?"

"I had a_ hadafuckin'nightmare._"

Orihime tensed, surprised. "You had a…nightmare? Like a bad dream?"

"Yeah," he clutched her tighter now, and she found it rather difficult to breathe, "_Shit_."

She tried to match his urgency to be closer, but once again, she was befuddled, "And what happened?"

"You left," he answered almost instantly.

The emotion that hit her, she wasn't prepared for it. It was a few seconds before her tears came, and they were big and fat and messy. She gasped sharply, unprepared for the onslaught of pain. Timidly, she wrapped her arms around his middle, burrowing her wet face there.

"R-Really?" Ichigo didn't reply. He must've heard the tremor in his voice, "Well, maybe I left to go get s-some food, or maybe some water. Ishida-kun is dehydrated rather easily a-and…and…"

He took a rough of her shoulders, pulling her back. It didn't take long for him to take in the teary gaze and wet face, "The fuck are you cryin' for?" His eyes narrowed dangerously, "Don't tell me you still intend to end this when this shit is over."

Orihime bit her bottom lip, lowering her gaze. She didn't want to lie to his face, "…O-Of course not, Kurosaki-san."

"You're lying." She opened her mouth to deny, but suddenly, the door was open.

"Ichigo!" Rukia was coughing, panting, covered in a light sheen of sweat, "Ichigo! Orihime!"

Ichigo was up before Orihime could say anything, do anything, and she watched as Rukia's eyes fluttered closed, and she careened to the side. Ichigo caught her before she could hit the ground and Orihime stumbled over.

"Kuchiki-san! Is she alright?" Orihime inquired, watching the girl's eyebrows pinch together.

"What's that smell?" Ichigo's head lifted, eyes narrowed. Orihime could tell what was happening—he wasn't the Ichigo she knew at the moment, the one that just came into her room, crawled into her bed, and told her he had a nightmare. No. he was the man she'd met at the beginning, the one who would kill anyone who messed with him the wrong way. And as much as she loved this half, she didn't want him to do something he regretted.

"Ichi—" She said, but he was up and placing Rukia's head in her lap the next second. She felt the brush of his hand on her head, "Ichigo!"

"Stay back," His voice was firm, leaving no argument. She watched as he walked out of the room, and left her in the darkness, sliding the door closed. It was quiet for a long time, just her hitched breathing, Rukia's pants, and the sound of her throbbing heart.

And then there was a scream.

Orihime was quick to place Rukia in her futon. She already knew enough screams to know that was one of panic. She threw open the door, and was horrified to see the flames. When she inhaled, her lungs set ablaze. The fires were everywhere—coating the walls, on the floors, and eating up the entire upper floor. She reeled backwards, her heart going into a frenzy. She glanced at Ishida's door—an immediate reaction—only to see it wide open and he wasn't in it.

Quickly, she hurried back to her room, hooking her hands under Rukia's arms. Coughing, Orihime used the last of her strength to half-carry and half-drag the petite woman to the window. She crawled out of it, taking Rukia with her, and attempted to take herself as far away from the fires as possible. When she took a good look at the large house, she saw the fires had taken up most of the house, starting from the roof, which meant that whatever had hit the house had been either an arrow launched or alcohol.

But who would…?

When the fire suddenly reared its ugly head, flaming out in impossibly length, Orihime knew it was time to move away. The roof was going to cave in at any moment. Taking a firm hold of Rukia, she moved back again, panting and trying to ignore the sheen of sweat lining her body.

"Orihime! Rukia!"

Orihime jerked, glancing up to see Renji—more of his hair—running towards them, sword drawn. Orihime blinked. Blood was seeping from the crowd of his head, dripping from his chin, and she could tell from the bruises on his face that he'd been beaten up pretty badly.

"Abrai-san!" Orihime started towards him, only for him to stoop low. "A-Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he nodded quickly, panting, "What about you?" He looked up at her, she nodded, and then he took Rukia's shoulder, shaking her, "Rukia?"

"She fainted. I think from the smoke." Orihime suggested, keeping a firm grip on Rukia's underarms. Laughing awkwardly, she uttered, "She's really heavy for some reason…Have you seen Ishida-kun?"

Renji took Rukia in his arms after sheathing his sword. Looking back at the redhead, he shook his head, "Nah. I thought he'd gotten out already." And then, without warning, he took her wrist. Orihime inhaled sharply, "We have to get outta here!"

"W-What?"

"Ichigo's orders! C'mon!" He rounded the burning house, and Orihime's eyes grew impossible larger at the scene. The entire village had been enveloped in flames, every house, every shop, the grounds, and the people were running, fleeing. When she saw one of the soldiers, a _very_ familiar soldier she could remember, slash through a small woman with her children, she covered her mouth in horror, whimpering, trying to look away as the blood streamed and flooded her senses.

Renji cursed, "Oi! Orihime! Don't die on me." That seemed to attract attention, because the next second, a group of soldiers started towards them, "Shit!" Renji cursed, "Orihime! Get outta here! Run the other way!"

Orihime could feel her heart trembling, her body trembling along with it, and she felt as if she would be sick. Swallowing, she turned away as Renji sprinted off in the other direction, Rukia over his shoulder, and she took off, going left. Her legs felt heavy, like iron, and she regretted putting back on her yellow kimono to sleep in. It wasn't very comfortable running.

"One went this way! This way!"

She could hear the voices behind her, and it only made her even more frightened. The Calvary! It was the Calvary from her Kingdom. No, no, no! This only meant one thing. They had found her, they had found her and was going to take her back. It made her panic even more. As she hurried back around the house, she tried to find a place where the flames weren't as bad. The market place was full of dead bodies—bleeding, burning dead bodies—and animals scampering everywhere. She could still hear the yells of the guards, the screaming of children, and the constant roaring of fire and danger in her ears.

"Ichigo!" She cried, because that made her feel safe and she wanted him beside her. Please.

One of the huts beside her broke down into ashes, just like her heart.

"Ichigo!" She screamed until her throat felt raw. At least, if she saw him, she could tell him she loved him one more time, she could kiss him, inhale his scent, just one last time, "Ichigo! Ichigo!"

She coughed, tears springing to her eyes as the stench of smoke rose.

_"Orihime!" _

She whirled around, hoping to get a flash of orange, but the smoke was too strong. "I-Ichigo…?"

"Orihime, walk towards my voice!" He shouted to her, ways away. Orihime raised a hand limply in front of her. "Orihime, this way!" She kept moving, her bare feet raw and sore against the hot land, "That's it! I can see you, Kitten. Keep coming!"

And for a second, she felt relieved. _Thank Kami-sama_, she would be able to see him again. Just one more time.

_I love you. _

_I love you so much._

_I love you, Ichigo. _

So, please—

"Woman."

She froze.

The fires rose and burned through her heart.

Slowly, as though to resist her fate, she turned. He was there, dressed in the finest suits, hands tucked in pockets, black hair against pale skin, and the oddest green eyes she'd ever seen. It was like looking into an emerald forest. Ice flooded into her veins, a stark contrast to the fire in her chest.

He walked towards her, a blank expression on her face, his steps precise and deliberate. She couldn't hear Ichigo, and she vaguely wondered if he could see her anymore.

"Come with me, woman."

She opened her mouth, willing herself to say something, but nothing came out. Her mouth felt dry, out of control, her reason broke. Licking her lips, she tried again.

"Silence."

And she closed it the next second, shocked into silence as he continued towards her.

"'Yes' will be the next word you speak." He stated coolly, "Anything else will result in a quick death." She kept quiet, her resolve wavering, "Not for you, but for your comrades. The _trash_."

She couldn't resist the widening of her eyes. Her lungs felt like they would explode—she hadn't been breathing since she'd seen him.

He stopped a few feet away, voice low, "Don't ask questions. Don't say a word. You have no rights or options. In your hands, you hold the rope of guillotine safely suspended above the trash's neck. I hope you understand, woman. We are not negotiating."

Her fists were shaking, she realized dully, everything was shaking. This was her worst nightmare, her impending future. She already knew everything just by gazing at him, just by meeting his eyes. _Fiancé_, she thought reflexivity, my husband, Ulquiorra Schiffer.

She wanted to deny that title, everything about it, but as their eyes met and locked, he said,

"I'm giving you an order."

She gasped, frozen in front of him. All of a sudden, she could see the castle walls—the prison—feel the uncomfortable dresses, hear her mother's voice, and she allowed herself to be lulled back.

That was her life, so what was she doing trying to change it? Her resolve had weakened, yes, and now, it was tarnished.

_I'm sorry Onii-chan, that I could not keep our promise._

"I will say it one more time."

_…I'm sorry, Ichigo._

"Come with me, woman."

**…**

**…**

**Muhahahaaaa! I am sooooooo evil! Did anyone else hear Ulquiorra sexy-ass music in the background, remember when he came to get her and take Orihime to Hueco Mundo and while he was saying those words, all you heard was the music and you were fangirling like YES YES YES GO WITH HIM~! Lol, sorry, some of you might not like Ulquihime. **

**Well, anyways, yes I know it might seem a bit rushed, but I promised my good friend lyerlaboys1 that I would give her the best Hidden Screams chapter I could muster. And here you are with all the romance, drama, action, and angst I could type out! Hope ya loved it! And can I just say my heart is pounding and I'm the one who wrote this chapter?! Jeez, it gave me goosebumps.**

**I'm hoping I surprised you all, since I haven't updated in two months and I come out with THIS! I can't wait to hear your thoughts. I know some of them aren't gonna be really happy! Hehe! And who else liked mushy-mushy Ichigo in this chapter, I know I did. He might be really hard, but he's really mushy and just wants Orihime all to himself. I LOVED IT! Oh, and no worries, the Ichihime is NOT over! I mean, really, would Ichigo ever give up? C'mon!**

**Well, and I gotta update on Her. I know you're all waiting for that, or if you want me to update one of my stories that you miss, I'll try to get right onto it. **

**Love you all!**

**(PS: OMG! I just realized that Renji and Rukia were calling Orihime 'Inoue. Sorry. Luckily, DeathBerryLover1995, told me. I totally forgot. Thanks! I fixed it now, so no worries. The two aren't supposed to know she's the princess, of course!)  
**

**-Star**


	15. Chapter 15

**…**

**…**

Shit. Shit. Shit.

This hadn't been what Ichigo was expecting. This was not how he wanted to spend his night. There was blood and guts and moaning and groaning and fire and heat and Hell literally on earth and wreaking havoc. He inhaled, and then regretted the action as his lungs felt like they were enveloped with acid. He hacked, coughing, but refusing to bow down to this bullshit. He'd been through worst—had battled countless men and soldiers and had survived, had gone three weeks without food and survived, had taken on love and desire, battling them both out, and _fuckin'_ survived.

That meant he would not let this shit-fest ruin what he had going on. When he'd woken up from his sleep, sweat-soaked, the first person he had thought of was Orihime and her comforting scent. He hadn't thought when he climbed into the futon with her, and instantly felt better when she acted instinctively, pressing herself against him with those delicious curves. His nightmare had been something hard to admit, and even harder when she tried to act stupid. He wasn't some idiot when it came to her—he refused to allow either of them to screw whatever it was between them up. So when he had been glaring at her, demanding an answer, Rukia had stumbled in, barely breathing, and causing that dark part inside of him to leap to action.

When he'd made it outside, he wasn't prepared to see the horror of the village. Vaguely, he wondered how shit could get so fucked in less than two hours. And when he ran into Sado and Renji, barking orders at them when the fires got too close to Byakuya's house, he felt that familiar twinge in his chest. He knew his Kitten was smart, he knew she was defiant and would disobey him, and that was what made him turn and head in the other direction. He was doing what he did best—slicing through the "Royal Guards"—when he saw her, _heard_ her screaming his name. Her voice wasn't the melodious tone he had heard since he met her, no, it was raw and scratchy and desperate and clawing viciously at his heart.

He shook the blood off his sword, his face twisted up, and his muscles bunched, tight as springs.

"Orihime!" He shouted her name to the heavens that would never accept him. He shouted her name to his mother, to his sisters, to his long-lost, pain-in-the-ass father, and felt the familiar gnawing in his heart.

Dammit.

Through the fires, he thought he saw the dance of her hair. It was brighter than the flames, like the sunset, and flowing. The smoke rose, and a sharp wind blew through, tossing her hair around her delicate face, and burning his eyes. He could see her dry lips part and whisper his name.

He needed her closer. Closer. He needed her right there, beside him, with everything he had. Because she _was_ everything he had. "Orihime, walk towards my voice!" She was confused, but she followed his orders, slow and tentative as she walked through the smoke, through the flames, and raising a hand in front of her, as though to touch him even though it seemed she was miles away. "Orihime, this way! That's it! I can see you, Kitten. Keep coming!"

The hut beside him collapsed into nothingness, and so did he when she paused in mid-step, and turned towards something—or someone. He tightened his grip around his sword, and felt his vision sway, searching through the smoke, and to her.

"Kitten!" He hollered, something pulsing through his veins. It made his muscles jump and twitch, and his teeth grit together. Just what the _fuck_ was she doing? At a time like this? Getting distracted in the middle of a fuckin' fire, typical for her. He brushed aside a long wooden rod, which was mostly ash, and jabbed his blade into a guard's defenseless throat. He ignored the gurgling sound the poor son of a bitch made before descending down to Hell. Ichigo wondered if he would see him a couple of years later.

And then, when he lost sight of Orihime, he lost sight of his world.

He was clutching at his sword now, frantic to hold onto the one thing he had left to get o her. He was trembling, shaking with a foreign emotion that bordered on rage and urgency. He grounded his teeth, and tried to stop himself from killing something else.

Right now, he just needed something to hold onto.

_"Orihime!" _

**…**

**…**

"I will say it one more time," Ulquiorra said quietly, over the burning flames, over the destroyed house, over her catching breath, "Come with me, woman."

She didn't say anything, couldn't find anything that was appropriate for this situation. Should she greet her fiancé with courage or bow to his feet? How did any of it even work? Her mind was muddled, her eyes were stinging, and her hands were cramped from clutching at air and her broken dreams. Swallowing, she shifted her weight slightly to the right, wondering she could move away, move back in time so she could return to earlier today, to Ichigo's arms.

_Ichigo…_

Her heart thudded erratically in her chest.

"Woman," Ulquiorra pressed, his emerald eyes narrowing at her, "Come."

Nervously, she licked her lips, and her foot went a step back, towards Ichigo, towards where she wanted to be. Ulquiorra's eyes tightened again, but he didn't bother moving towards her, keeping his hands in his pockets and his slate clean.

"As I said before," he murmured, "this is not a negotiation. If you will not come willingly, then I shall use force."

Her mouth was as dry as a desert. She had yet to speak back to him—which was odd for her, since, over the last few weeks, she had no problem snapping back at Ichigo, no matter the consequences. But as she stood in front of Ulquiorra, a good yard away, and trembling, her resolve crumbled to the ground like a house of cards. It was a strange feeling, a feeling that made her not only doubt herself, but her determination.

"Sir," Orihime jerked, shocked as Hisagi, the Head Captain, stepped from the fires, with a few other soldiers. He was dragging along something—or someone—that was groaning softly. Hisagi jerked up the chin of the man, "This one was firing arrows. Maybe apart of the Calvary…?"

"I have not seen his face before, and he was not a part of the report," Another said, putting away his bloody blade.

"So we kill him," Hisagi replied, twisting his sword so that it pressed against the side, right over his ribs, and a few inches below his heart.

Orihime's veins ran cold as the blade plunged deep, and then twisted, exulting a sickening crunching, his ribs winding with the sword. The blood came a second later as Hisagi withdrew his blade, releasing the young man, who fell with a soft _thud_. The crimson, thick liquid spread underneath him, in the dirt, staining Orihime's world and the next.

She opened her mouth to cry out, and her nails bit into her cheeks, hands trembling with horror, _"I-Ishida-kun!" _

The soldiers glanced over at her, surprised. One even grinned, "Ah. Princess."

Hisagi tilted his head, sheathing his red sword, and regarded her smoothly. He had seen her before, seen her somewhere…_And that hair_—

Ulquiorra was silent, dragging his gaze away from the bleeding male to Orihime. She was trembling like a leaf in a storm, knees locked together, mouth parted, eyes large and teary, and the perfect image of self-destruction. He sighed softly. Such a mess.

Hisagi shook his head, as though he hadn't just stabbed a person, as though they hadn't just ruined lives, as though they hadn't set the village on fire, "We should be going, Ulquiorra-sama. The Empress is probably waiting."

"Yes," Was Ulquiorra's short reply. He stared at the woman, eyes deep and emotionless, "Come, woman."

She was silent, still staring at the prone figure on the ground, the blood spreading wider and wider.

And then they all heard,

"_Orihime_!"

Orihime jolted, as if she'd been electrocuted, and her head whirled around, hair swiveling with her movements, and her hands shaking. In reply, she shrieked, _"Ichigo!" _

Ulquiorra did not know what to make of all this, but he was sure it was not anything good. Turning his gaze on Hisagi, he nodded his head at the redhead, "Grab her." The black-haired nodded solemnly as Ulquiorra addressed the others, "And bring the carriage around. The horses are sure to be upset."

"Yes, sir!" They all chorused, marching north, and keeping silent. Ulquiorra looked back at the body of the young man, who she had called 'Ishida-kun' and scoffed softly. The Princess had obviously made a few friends on her little journey. All that nonsense was coming to an end now.

Orihime hadn't stopped calling whoever's name, shaking and blubbering, and begging for someone, anyone, to help her and this person named 'Ichigo' and 'Ishida-kun'. Honestly, it was beginning to bug Ulquiorra as he rested his hands back into his pockets, and watched Hisagi. He grabbed Orihime's left upper arm, tugging her away from the fires and her screaming.

Ulquiorra couldn't say he was surprised when she turned around and began to fight. Typically, the princesses he met were very refined, had never raised a hand at anyone. Yet, Orihime, she used her nails, screamed at him, shrill curses and harsh names that Ulquiorra wondered how she obtained in her vocabulary, and blows to the chest, kicks to the lower regions. He was just about to say something, reprimand her maybe, when a flash of black interrupted him.

It went deathly silent.

The tip of the black blade was placed art Hisagi's throat, just a breath away from killing him, and he froze where he was, his hands going limp on the Princess. The redhead also stopped, panting, and her eyes glistening.

Finally, she looked up, her lips moist and parted and whispering, "I-Ichigo…"

Ulquiorra first looked at his hair. It was unkempt and messy and a ridiculous color. His clothes were midnight black and loose, just enough room for a skilled fighter, and he was covered in ashes and bruises, as though he'd ran through the fires fighting for his life. His teeth were bared, his brown eyes tight with something crackling in them, vengeance and fury and…relief? Intrigued, Ulquiorra watched as the stranger pressed his blade in Hisagi's esophagus and glowered at him fiercely.

"Kitten," he managed to ground out, "get over here."

Ulquiorra didn't miss the way Orihime responded to the name, jerking upright, and blinking back her tears. It appeared as though she turned to a completely different person—shoulders straight, chin up, and wiping away the tear-tracks on her pretty face. She took a step towards Ichigo, but Ulquiorra was having none of that.

He was already behind schedule.

"Woman," Orihime paused in mid-step, and he wondered if her heart skipped, "come, now."

Orihime didn't look over her shoulder. Ichigo did it for her, flickering his eyes up at the black-haired standing across from him. He nearly snarled at the unfamiliar man that he did not like already—nice suit, perfect hair, and dead gaze. He would gouge out his eyeballs.

"Orihime," Ichigo looked down at her, "Get behind me."

She opened her mouth to say something, but Ulquiorra cut her off.

_"Woman." _

"Stop fuckin' calling her that!" Ichigo hissed venomously, narrowing his eyes into slits at the guy.

"I will call her what I please," Ulquiorra replied tonelessly.

"Who the hell is this guy?" Ichigo demanded, his voice low and harsh. Hisagi didn't answer him so he looked at Orihime, who had her hands bunched in her skirt, and her lips quivering. "_Orihime_."

Slowly, she looked up at him. The look she gave him was enough to make his breath hitch. Somehow, he already knew her answer before she spoke, "H-He's…my _fiancé_."

Before Ichigo could even _feel_, he felt something catch him in the gut. The hit tore the air from his lungs, and he hissed, feeling the blood rush up to his mouth. He had bit his tongue. It took him a long moment to realize he had hit the ground, and Orihime was panicking, screaming as she was grabbed again. Ichigo's heartbeat sounded wet in his ears, and her tear-clouded voice sounded even wetter.

"D-Dammit…" He sat up, his body bruised and aching in places it should not ache. "Hisagi, you bastard."

Hisagi stood before him, his hand closed around Ichigo's blade. The orange-haired had failed to notice he had let go of his sword. The Head Captain threw it away without a backwards glance and glared down at the murderer.

"I think you're the bastard in this situation, Kurosaki," Hisagi quipped viciously, and then his foot was back in Ichigo's stomach, and the argument was over. Ichigo grunted, blood pooling in his mouth and blocking his airways. Hisagi was merciless, digging his foot in Ichigo's old wounds, the smoke wafting into his eyes, making it difficult to see. His arms spread out—a clever maneuver he had learned when he was twelve—and found some kind of stone that was as big as his palm. He swung forward with all his strength and heard the nauseating crunch as the rock connected with Hisagi's ankle.

The Captain cried out in pain, stumbling back on one useless foot. He nearly toppled over, but managed to catch himself when Ichigo's blade came down in alarming speeds. He blocked it with his arm, and the sword sliced through his forearm like butter. Hissing, Hisagi clutched at the newfound wound and staggered backwards. Ichigo had always been the best opponent to go up against him, after all, he'd been chasing him since the boy turned fifteen. And somehow, the man always seemed to come out on top.

As Hisagi yanked out his own sword with his good arm, Kurosaki glared at him. Tonight, one of them was going to die.

Orihime was wiggling desperately against the grip of a guard. He held onto her, one hand on her thigh and the other wrapped around her middle. All in all, Orihime didn't appreciate the clutch one bit. She used her skills like she knew best—which was her foot in between his legs. He fell with a squeak, much like the first gentleman she had defeated with that tactic.

When she stumbled back, inhaling, she found her foot stepping into something warm and wet. She was afraid to look down, already knowing what it must be, but found herself staring at it anyway. "I-Ishida…kun…" Was her broken whisper, as she fell to her knees, ignoring the blood that stained her yellow kimono. She gripped his shoulder, and she almost breathed a sigh of relief when he groaned sharply. His face was pinched tight, eyes open and filled with excruciating pain that she could only imagine. He pressed his lips in a firm line, meeting her gaze.

"Ishida-kun," She choked out, "I am so sorry. I-I never meant for any of this to happen and—"

"Orihime-san, I am sorry for interrupting your heartfelt apologies, but do you mind pressing your hands against the wound?"

Orihime blinked once, twice, thrice. And then muttered, "Eh?"

He smiled, but it was very much forced and blood was covering his lips, teeth, and tongue, "It will quell the bleeding."

"…Ah." Timidly, she placed her hands on his chest, hovering over the wound. She looked back towards his face, he was preparing himself, and then put her hands over the bleeding slit. Ishida hissed, his face breaking out in a hot sweat, and Orihime pushed firmly, watching the blood spill through the gaps in her fingers and run down her wrist, warm and spine-chilling.

Slowly, Ishida cracked open his eyes, and smirked, "You were saying?"

And she laughed, but it sounded weird and hysterical. She wanted to wipe her face, but she didn't want him to bleed anymore, "I'm sorry. If only I had…" She shook her head at herself, "I can be so stupid sometimes."

"Yes," Ishida nodded grimly, "I suppose you can be a bit airheaded."

She didn't know that Ishida-kun could be so grumpy.

Unfortunately for her, she would not be acquainted with this new side of him. Without warning, a pale hand reached out and snatched up her wrist. Orihime gasped sharply as Ishida gave a hoarse groan, but unable to move.

"I have had enough," Ulquiorra's voice was cold and it made Orihime froze, "We are _leaving_."

Orihime did not say anything, frozen. She vaguely wondered why she got like that around him, but couldn't find herself questioning it as he tugged her roughly away from her friend, who was calling out her name in whispers. The blood continued to pool around him in alarming rate, and she knew she was hopeless to stop it.

"Your friend," Ulquiorra grounded out, releasing her, and she stumbled backwards, "is awfully persistence." True to his word, Ichigo was clashing swords with Captain Hisagi, and it appeared as though he was winning, the Captain bleeding in one arm, and limping.

And Orihime watched in wide-eyed horror as Ulquiorra slowly wrenched his long, elegant sword from its sheath at his waist.

_"D-Don't!"_ She cried. She hadn't been expecting him to shove her back without as much as a backward glance. She fell backwards, and her head met the ground.

It went black in her world, and she wondered if she could just stay like that.

**…**

**…**

Ichigo's muscles twitched, pushing against Hisagi's blade. Even with a possibly broken rib, bleeding mouth, and concussion, the orange-haired still managed to fight with everything he had. Hisagi seemed to be doing the same thing, holding his own as he pushed his sword back at Ichigo's with all his strength.

Their eyes met in a mental battle, warring with their physical one. Ichigo was quick to duck under his sword as it swept across and then return with a roundhouse kick, powerful and swift, enough to knock the Captain off his feet. The sword clattered to the ground, a deafeningly satisfying sound in Ichigo's ears as he prepared to plunge his sword in the stomach of his arch enemy.

And with this, everything would be fine. He would have Kitten back, he would have all his shit back together, he could just get on with it, and then everything would be—

_Swipe. _

It went silent.

Piercingly so.

Hisagi watched as Ichigo's hands quivered, before limply dropping the sword. The Captain was confused, staring with wide eyes as Ichigo suddenly coughed, a loud, wet hacking sound that rattled Hisagi to his bone. The blood that dribbled down from Ichigo's mouth and down his chin, made him look ghostly.

Slowly, Ichigo blinked, glancing from the aghast Hisagi, who was staring at his suddenly inflamed stomach, to the bundle of red-gold and blood, sitting there, eyes wider than he'd ever seen them—even when he whispered "I love you" and watched her cry—and she was already screaming. He couldn't hear her though, his ears were pounding.

He fell to his knees, the blackness beginning to seep into his vision.

Finally, his ears seemed to work.

_"…Ichigo!" _

There was a loud clap of thunder up above.

**…**

**…**

When the drop of water hit her cheek, she wasn't sure if it came from her eyes or the sky. She blinked rapidly, and she knew the next few droplets were tears because they were warm and heavy and heartbreaking. A sound was stuck in her throat, somewhere between a high keen and a sob. It wouldn't stop, and her lips trembled, _she_ trembled as the rain began to fall, dousing out the flames around them and raising the putrid smell of failure, smoke, and death.

She inhaled, trying to stop seeing what was right in front of her.

Blood.

Blood.

_Ichigo_.

That didn't go together. It couldn't, it _wouldn't_. Her head was still ringing, and her body felt uncomfortably weightless. Hisagi was already standing, obscuring her view, and her fiancé was a foot away from him, sheathing his sword smoothly.

"Hm," he said neutrally, "It is raining."

Hisagi blinked, looking away from the blood forming underneath the orange-haired, feeling something twist in his gut, "Uh…yes, sir."

Ulquiorra looked up, his eyes landing on Orihime, who was on her knees, her lower half covered in red liquid, and rain sticking her hair to her face. He could not read her face, but the look in her eyes was enough to make him understand that it was _over_. He released his grip on his sword, and tucked his hands in his pockets.

"Gather the Princess," he ordered, "Make sure she is not injured."

"Yes, sir," Hisagi stumbled backwards, glancing over his shoulder at the soiled redhead, "Your Majesty? You can get up now. It is safe."

Instead, she was not looking at him. Her large, blank eyes gazed over his shoulder, and stared at the limp, quiet Ichigo, face-down in his own blood. There was none of his yelling fits, or his rough, possessive hands, or his "Kitten". There was _nothing_.

And that was enough to make her stand. She lunged, she wasn't sure where at, but Hisagi grabbed her up around the waist to stop her. She was screaming again, and her throat felt raw. And then she was using everything Ichigo taught her—colorful curses and hatred-filled words, "You _bastard_! You immoral, repulsive _bastard_!" She shrieked, "You _murdered_ him!" And then her voice softened, croaking out weakly, "Oh, God…Oh, _God_…You _killed_ him."

Ulquiorra stared at her, not at all bothered by her snapping. Instead, he watched her before taking a step forward, "This does not concern you."

She opened her mouth to retaliate, thin eyebrows merging together, but he continued, each word and step purposeful.

"None of this concerns you. It should _not_ concern you. _You_ are the reason he is dead," he murmured, staring straight into those liquid pools of brown, "He is dead because of you. Because of your intentions and goals. You caused all this. None of this is your concern, _Princess_. Because they are _dead_."

A choked sob erupted from her throat, and Hisagi could hear her whispering, _"No…no…no…"_

Ulquiorra continued towards her, words cold and cutting, "We are leaving now, woman. Gather yourself and—"

A hand reached out and clutched at its target.

Ulquiorra paused in mid-step, silent, and then slowly looked back over his shoulder where the orange-haired was lifting his heavy head, and then had the nerve to grin up at him, teeth and all, brown eyes mocking yet harsh.

"He's dead, they say," he muttered, tightening his grip around Ulquiorra's pants' leg, "It's over, they say. We're _leaving_, they fuckin' say."

Orihime gasped so sharply she nearly choked. Hisagi released her in his shocked state, _he can still move…?_

"Stop talkin' about me like I'm not fuckin' here," Ichigo drawled, the blood thick and warm around him, and the rain cold and slicing on his skin.

"I-Ichigo!" Orihime cried, already rushing towards him, already feeling that crushing feeling when he speaks, when he moves, when he breathes for her.

"Release me," Ulquiorra's voice was cutting, leaving no room for argument.

Ichigo sneered up his upper lip, "No, you damn prick. Because, I know if I do, yer leaving and yer taking Kitten with you."

Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed, "I said _release me_."

"Sorry. You're gonna have to say it to my face."

Ulquiorra was silent, placing one hand on the hilt of his sword, "This Kitten you speak of," He mused slowly, sliding his eyes to the Princess only three feet away, "Are you addressing the woman?"

Ichigo's eyes tightened, "What of it, you fucker?"

"Ah," Ulquiorra dropped his hand from his sword, and looked back at Orihime with a gaze that made her heart splinter, "I understand now." He kept his hand limp by his side, "If he knew who you truly were, he wouldn't be acting like this. No low-life, no _trash_, such as himself, could know."

Orihime fisted her hands as she tasted the cotton in her mouth, "Please, don't—"

"What the hell are you…" Ichigo spat out the blood pooling in his mouth, hissing, "talkin' about?"

"Ichigo, I-I—"

"—She is the Princess of Japan." Ulquiorra supplied expressionlessly, offhandedly as the rain poured and plaster his fine clothes and black hair to his body and face.

Ichigo's eyes didn't widen. They didn't get big like saucers and pop out of his head. Instead, they slowly slid over to the frozen Orihime, where she clutched at her bloodied clothes, and averted her gaze, red-gold sticking to her cheeks, and her eyes moist and earnest. Limply, she raised a hand, attempting to gather courage, to talk to him, touch him, tell him everything and more.

And then he did what Ichigo always did best. He surprised her.

He snorted. Snorted through his nose and spat out blood through his mouth. He glared at Orihime, hand still gripping Ulquiorra's pants, "That's kinda funny. Your name goes with your title, _Princess_." The way he said it, made her stomach coil up into little bits of pain and agony. She flinched.

She could tell that he was hurt, that he was staring at her as though he never seen her before, but she also knew this meant nothing to Ichigo. He glared at her for a moment longer before tugging at Ulquiorra's pants.

"Got anythin' else to say, you son of a bitch?"

Ulquiorra was quiet, slanting his gaze back at the orange-haired.

"Good," Ichigo smirked with his bloody mouth, "Now, unless you're gonna bandage me up or start helping rebuild shit, I think it would be best if you left."

"Yes," Ulquiorra retorted, "I suppose you are right." He looked at Orihime, "Come, woman."

"Kitten," Ichigo grounded out, throwing daggers at her, "don't you fuckin' move." For some reason, that built relief in her chest. He still wanted her to stay, he didn't care about the lies, and he was staring at her again with those intense eyes she knew so well. Those eyes that had confessed his love and those eyes that made her see stars at night and curl her toes. Those eyes that could make her do _anything_.

Those eyes that just strengthened her resolve.

Slowly, she walked towards Ulquiorra and Ichigo spat a curse, writhing on the ground. "I-If…" She glanced at the ground, wishing her voice would sound strong and tame, "If I go with you, do you promise to leave him alone?"

Ulquiorra stared at her silently before uttering, "I will not kill him."

Orihime nodded slowly, her eyes filling up at the corners as she gave him a soft smile, "Thank you."

Ulquiorra didn't reply, looking away and facing Hisagi. "Let us be on our way."

Ichigo was growling as Ulquiorra slipped away from his grip. His fingers felt numb and his eyes sight was blurring. Before he knew it, Orihime was in front of him, and gripping one of his hands, smiling that smile that he was strangely possessive of, full of sunshine and love and trust, that smile she had been directing at him since the day they first met.

_"Kurosaki-san, right? I know you do not know me, but I was wondering if you could help me with something."_

_"A-Ah! Kurosaki-san! Please wait for me!"_

_"Wah~! Kurosaki-san!"_

_"I think now…it would be best if we went our separate ways."_

_"I love you, Ichigo. I love you, so much."_

And as those memories flashed, he stared into her eyes, telling her with his mind, screaming at her "don't you dare move a fuckin' muscle" but being his Kitten, of course, she smiled brightly at him again, pushing back her tears, and clutching his hand like a lifeline. And he wished he could feel his hand so that he could clutch back, but his body wasn't listening to him at the moment.

"Orihime…" He huffed, swallowing down blood, and wishing she would say something to make all of this make sense. She was the Princess of Japan, he could deal with that, she was a liar (a sexy-ass liar), he could deal with that, but those eyes staring at him, as though she was reliving the memories as well, embracing them with her big, fat heart, and kissing his bloody, bruised knuckles, he could not deal with _that_. It felt as if someone had reached into his chest and twisted his heart round and round until it didn't know which way was the right direction either.

The rain was getting harder now, and Ichigo vaguely remembered seeing horses in the background, an extravagant carriage, and Hisagi speaking with the other guards, who were throwing looks their way. He wished he could flip them off.

"Ichigo," she whispered, breaking through his dam and clawing her way to his heart. She laughed a bit, and he hungrily listened to it, "I'm really, really sorry I didn't tell you."

He snorted again, and she smiled, "It's kinda nice. Rukia told me relationships were about surprises…" he breathed in raggedly, "So, ya know, this is as good as it gets, I guess."

She giggled again before sniffling, appearing delicately broken in front of him, "I-I'm…really, really _sorry_."

"Kitten…"

"And I wish I could finish this journey with you," she whispered, "I wanted to go to the mountains with you and see Yoruichi-san again and meet your other friends and play games with Kuchiki-san and braid Renji-kun's hair because he gave me permission to one day. He promised." She wiped her free hand across her eyes and then brought it down to her neck, "A-And…I'm sorry I have to break our agreement, Ichigo. I'm sorry we couldn't finish this together."

He was silent for once, no daring quip on his lips. Just blood and the imprint of her very soul. He felt the life bleed out of him, but he strived for more of her contact, more of her. Just more. More. More.

_Dammit, Orihime. _

As she removed something shining from around her neck, she smiled again, heartbreakingly beautiful, "But we can just remember these, ne?" She placed something in his hand, and curled his fingers over it protectively, "Remember…me. _Us_."

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, he clutched at whatever was in his hand and stared at her.

"And…" She breathed in deeply, "And I'll cherish everything." She turned her head, hearing herself being called, and then she felt a clammy hand on her wet wrist.

"Quit…"

Orihime jerked, looking back at Ichigo. He was glaring at her again, a scowl on his handsome face. She almost grinned again.

"Quit talkin' all that bullshit," he snapped at her, his voice low and hoarse. "You fuckin' annoy me. I don't know why you're talkin' like this shit is over. I'll heal and now I know where you live, where you'll be waiting for me, Kitten. So shut the fuck up."

Orihime blinked. And then blinked again. Her lips parted, "I-Ichigo—"

"I'll come for you. I always do, don't I?" With shimmering eyes, she nodded, "Then why the hell're ya doubting me now?!"

She giggled, "Hehe, you're right. Sorry. Sorry." And then she softened, whispering, "You don't have to. You don't always have to save me. A-And I'll remember all this, all of you. Everything."

He crinkled his nose, but didn't say anything.

"I love you." she whispered, the vow sweet and soft on her lips, "So much."

And then, just like that, she was gone. He wasn't sure if he passed out or maybe he was hallucinating, but he knew that she was gone and there was nothing he could do about it, not for a long time. The rain didn't stop falling, and Ishida's breathing was getting shallower. He was sure he fell unconscious again and again before he finally saw something in the distance.

In the blink of an eye, the clogs were in his face, and Urahara Kisuke was staring down at him, "Oh, dear. What a mess."

Ichigo, knowing he was saved, didn't have the strength to snap at the man. Instead, he kept a tight grip around the hibiscus charms in his hand, and stayed quiet as Urahara nudged him with his clog.

His resolve was already kicking into gear.

**…**

**…**

_(Mom, I lost something important to me._

_Again._

_Something that I wished to cherish._

_But don't worry. _

_I'm gettin' her back.)_

**…**

**…**

**Hmm…Do you guys like this? I had already been working on it as soon as I finished Everything In Between, but I feel as though something is missing…Is it not dramatic enough? Did I ruin the end? Oh, well, I'm happy with it anyway. I hope you guys feel the same. **

**As you can see, I based some of the scene off of when Rukia was taken back to the Soul Society. I thought that scene was so cute, but ya know, I ship Ichihime, sooo, sorry Rukia! Anyway, what do you guys think? I think I did good, and I'm updating faster! –does random karate pose- that's right! Be jealous~!**

**And, oh, yeah! One of you guys asked me what's my favorite story, out of all the stories I've written, and I would have to say And When It Rains. That was a very emotional rollercoaster for me, but this story definitely comes in second. What about you guys? What's your favorite story that I've written, or any story period on this site or published? I just love hearing you guys talk about anything and everything. It makes me happy~**

**Oh, and don't forget to review. It makes me dance.**

**-Star**


	16. Chapter 16

**…**

**…**

The Empress looked up, perfect eyebrows merged, mouth turned down. Fisting her hands by her sides, she spun around and began to pace in front of her throne. Her heels clicked-clacked while she stalked around, the rich wine-colored carpets appearing soft and inviting below her feet.

For a moment, she felt that aggravation rear its ugly head, and she huffed through her nose, "No…No…"

"Your Majesty?" A timid voice broke into her thoughts. The woman whirled around to face the maid. Instantly, the worker was trembling underneath the dark gaze, "Um…"

"Spit it out already," The queen quipped harshly, eyes narrowing.

"W-Well…Your Majesty. There was just a message from Captain Hisagi. He said," She inhaled sharply, "that the Princess has been found and retrieved. They are heading to the Palace as we speak."

The Empress stared at her for a long moment before smiling, the smile rather wicked and gleaming with something underneath, "Ah. Well, that's great news, isn't it?"

The maid nodded, "Yes, it is. The Palace has been rather anxious for several weeks. It is a great relief to know she is not harmed. Isn't it, Empress?"

The queen's smile widened, "Yes. I suppose it is. That will be all, Aoi." The maid nodded, bowed, and left the room, leaving the ruler with her thoughts. With another smirk, she reached up to grasp her necklace, eyes narrowed.

She just couldn't _wait_ to see her daughter.

**…**

**…**

_Fuck. It hurts. _

He hadn't felt this kind of pain since the fires. When his mother had vanished, his sisters beheaded, and his father leaving him behind. It wasn't so much as a physical pain, more a mental, or emotional, something Ichigo despised admitting. He felt like _shit_. His mouth tasted like cotton, he couldn't feel his toes, which were _freezing_, and his limbs felt heavy and uncomfortable, as though they didn't belong on his body. He wanted to stretch out his tired muscles, wanted to roll over and bury himself in the blankets, wanted to hold something close with the smell of lavender, amazing curves, and red-gold hair tangling in his fingers—

And that memory ebbed away. He wanted to hold onto it, he wanted to clutch it to his chest, he wanted to thrust it into his soul until it was engraved there. And, _fuck_, did it hurt. Whatever wasn't there with him made him feel like he was being ripped in half. He'd never felt anything like it.

Whatever wasn't there, he wanted it back. And he wanted it back, _now_.

Amber eyes flashed open.

Wherever he was, it was nowhere familiar. It was dark and it took a long moment for his eyes to adjust. It was silent too, and the blanket over him was thin and didn't do much for the cold. His head felt like it had been beat with a mallet. His muscles protested—it felt like they were on fire, as though he ran for hundreds of miles without stopping. He sat up slowly, the sheets falling to his lap. His feet were numb from the cold and his hair felt damp, maybe from sweat or from the rain outside. He was lying in a futon, he realized a second later, and it wasn't very comfortable.

Lifting a heavy hand to his head, he tried to gather his bearings. He had never felt this type of pain before, never so heavy and overbearing and fuckin' stinging. His stomach felt like it would rip in half and then explode into raging fires. He gritted his teeth, sweat forming on his brow.

"_Fuck_…" He hissed between clenched teeth.

"Finally. I thought you would never wake up."

Ichigo turned his head and was quite surprised to see Rukia lying right next to him in her own futon. Sweat-soaked, she panted underneath her blankets. Her eyes were barely visible in the dim light and her hair was plastered to her sickly pale skin, bags underneath her dark gaze. She swallowed thickly, drawing Ichigo's attention to her upper half. Her entire chest was bandaged, wrapped round and round to cover the wound that was only bestowed by a sword slashing through her chest.

His eyes tightened at the sight. Her legs were tangled in the sheets, and that seemed to be the only part of her body that could move. So he reached out to pull the blankets off of her overly-heated body, only for the flash of white to catch his attention. On his left upper arm, there was a white bandaged wrapped around it. He frowned, his mind muddled as he tried to piece together how it got like that. He flexed his muscles and then grimaced when he felt the burning sensation rush from his fingertips to his shoulder.

Rukia smiled at him weakly, "You're an idiot."

Throwing her a glare, he set his lips in a firm line. Without further ado, he peeled the sheets off his sore body, and was stupefied at what he found. His entire body was practically eaten up by bandages. His left leg had bandages wrapped around his knee and ankle. His knuckles were bandaged, and he could only guess they were busted. His entire chest and stomach was wrapped up too, burning and stinging and making him grit his teeth.

_"The fuck…" _

Before Ichigo to demand what the fuck was going on, the door-cloth was lifted up and someone stepped into the room.

"Ah! Good morning, you two!"

Rukia and Ichigo both looked up. Brows coming together, Ichigo glared at the man. Hat on head, fan in hand, clogs on feet, Urahara Kisuke stood in the threshold, smiling at them, as though they were visiting for afternoon tea.

The orange-haired's muscles tensed, "Getaboshi—"

"Now, now, Ichigo-san. We wouldn't want to reopen those wounds, now would we? After all, Yoruichi spent hours over you, making sure you were patched up impeccably. Let's not put her hard work to waste." Urahara sing-songed behind his fan.

Rukia huffed, rolling her eyes. Ichigo's glare became even deadlier.

"The hell're ya going on about?" he drawled venomously, "Why would I have to be patched up?"

There was a stiff silence. Rukia glanced over at Ichigo, slightly alarmed, "Ichigo—"

"Hm. Interesting. It appears you hit your head. I told Yoruichi to check for a concussion…" The man seemed to be in deep thought before he returned his attention to the two guests, "Ichigo-san, do you remember anything? The last few days?"

Ichigo's eyebrows came together again, "Am I supposed to be remembering something?"

Rukia and Urahara exchanged looks. Finally, Rukia was the one to break. To Ichigo's surprise, she raised both her hands and pressed them against her eyes. He heard her sniffle a second later, "We…we lost her."

Ichigo's eyebrows went up.

Rukia's chest began to heave, "Ow…Dammit, _ow_. I forgot I'm not supposed to move much." She dropped her hands back to her sides, gripping the sheets as though they were a lifeline. Ichigo didn't miss her wet cheeks. She turned her head to face him, "Oh, God…I thought you were dead. I thought both of you were _dead_."

"No need to stress, Rukia-chan. Ichigo-san's been through worse," Urahara smiled, "Let's all just be glad everyone's okay."

"You," Urahara and Rukia looked over at Ichigo. The orange-haired swallowed, his eyes narrowing, "You said 'both of you'. What do you mean?"

Rukia stared at him silently.

"Dammit, Rukia! I don't have time for this! I'm not fuckin' fifteen anymore!" He glanced at Kisuke, who's expression was strangely somber, "Tell me who you're talkin' about!"

"Boke," Yoruichi said as she entered the room, arms crossed over her chest. She was carrying a candle with her, giving off the rarest of light, "Check your hand." She gestured with her chin to his left, limp hand.

Scowl deepening, he glanced at Rukia, who looked away, Urahara, who kept his expression hidden with his hat and fan, and then Yoruichi, who was not afraid to meet his gaze, instead staring at him lazily, hand on hip.

Slowly, he opened his fist and stared down at the two hibiscus charms, shining in the darkness and probably worth more than his life. Rukia watched him, his expression was unreadable and the silence was heavy, deafening.

She opened her dry lips, "I-Ichigo—"

_"Shit." _

She closed her mouth as he suddenly shoved his free hand through his hair. His teeth were bared, grinding together, and the raw emotion on his face was enough to make her gaze at him sympathetically. His long frame seemed to tremble with these emotions, bottling up until they were forced to combust.

Urahara was watching him warily, "Now, Ichigo—"

His fist suddenly swung forward and went straight through the wooden floors. Rukia jumped at the crackling sound and then flinched when she felt the overwhelming pain in her side. Yoruichi watched blandly, as though this happened every. Urahara cocked his head to the side, whistling from behind his fan.

"You're fixing that," Yoruichi commented, brushing a strand of violet hair over her shoulder.

Ichigo either didn't hear her or ignored her. Slowly, he pulled his fist from the hole in the floor. Blood began to seep through the white bandages on his knuckles. He placed his fists in his lap, body bowing like a bow, muscles twitching and violently bunched. The air was tense and silent, even Urahara was quiet.

Rukia barely breathed. As Yoruichi opened her mouth to reprimand him once again, he finally spoke,

"I lost."

Rukia stared at him, "Yeah, but—"

"And I lost _her_."

The petite woman next to him winced at his tone, "But we survived, right? That's good enough."

"And it wouldn't have worked, Ichigo," Yoruichi spoke quietly, solemnly, "She's the Princess of Japan. Not some low-life bastard's child. She's royalty. Above us. She didn't belong down in these dumps anyway."

"Yoruichi—" Urahara tried to cut in, but she shot him a cold glare.

"I am only speaking the truth. This is what needed to happen. She needed to return to her throne. What if the Empress died tomorrow and Orihime was still here? What would be of us? Our country would fall apart and she would be here, head over heels in love with Ichigo. And that's—"

_"Shut up!" _

At the barked order, Yoruichi jumped in place, Urahara watched, and Rukia's eyes widened. All eyes looked down at the orange-haired, who looked as if he would explode. He glowered at Yoruichi, harshly and threateningly. His fingers twitched. If he had Zangestu, Yoruichi would probably be in pieces.

"Stop pretendin' you know everything, Yoruichi. It only pisses me off more." He muttered and Yoruichi scoffed. She opened her mouth to snap back, only for a hand to be placed on her shoulder. She looked over to see Urahara giving her a look. With a sigh and shake of her head, she turned away and stalked out of the room.

When she was gone, Ichigo was attempting to stand. He kicked the rest of the covers off his legs with a frustrated growl and ignored the sweat breaking across his skin when he tried to stand. Usually, he could do it, even with these kinds of injuries, but something was missing.

"Zangestu…" He grounded out, looking towards Kisuke, who was trying to appear as innocent as possible. "Where is it?"

"Oh, come now, Ichigo-san. You don't need a sword quite yet. Not until your wounds fully heal and—"

"Give me my sword, you stupid bastard," drawled Ichigo venomously. "I didn't ask for yer help."

Slowly, Urahara's expression changed. That subdued, soft look that he reserved for certain people made itself present on his face. "And what do you plan to do if you get your sword back, Ichigo?"

"What else?" he grounded out, "Go after her. Bring her back here. Bring her back to _me_." He said, panting practically, "They _took_ her from me. That damn prick, her fuckin' _fiancé_ and that bastard Hisagi. I'll kill them. I'll kill _all of them_—"

Suddenly, Kisuke moved. "Idiot." He raised his staff, pushing it directly into the orange-haired's forehead. With a startled yell, the man fell back, Urahara's clog jabbing into his kidney. Gasping, Ichigo felt as though his entire body would split in half as Urahara's eyes met his, "You're a real idiot, aren't you?"

Ichigo choked, "W-Wha—"

"Urahara!" Rukia yelled, fully taken aback by the turn of events, "Get off of him!"

The pale blonde ignored her, "You're fatally injured and your head is in the clouds. If you go there now, you'll die. You're in love with her, I understand that, but I also understand that you're not ready for anything. So unless you wanna die, I advise you stay where you are and stay quiet."

A drop of sweat trickled down from his temple to his jaw. Wide eyed, Ichigo stared up from the elder's cane to the eyes of his longtime comrade. The end of his cane somehow reminded him of a sword. Slowly, Urahara backed off, retracting his clog from Ichigo's wounds.

"You…bastard…" Ichigo panted, feeling his very bone throb.

"That may be so," Urahara replied merrily, "But, as I've told you before, you have to have your head screwed on straight before beginning. I've taken care of you for many years, Ichigo-san. And that is why, I'll help you."

Rukia and Ichigo looked at him in disbelief.

"And how will you do that?" inquired Rukia hesitantly.

"I was a part of the Calvary once, my dear Rukia-chan. I know every nook and crook of the castle, every hallway and room, and including all of the Calvary's tactics. It will be nothing." He smiled brightly at her, while she stared at him in shock. "But," he turned towards Ichigo again, pointing his cane at the quiet orange-haired, "I need your full consent, Ichigo-san."

Ichigo glowered up at the man. Rukia was glanced between them cautiously.

"Everything?" The orange-haired demanded, tone sharp.

"Yeaup~!" The blonde happily chirped.

It was another long moment before Ichigo replied, "Fine, you damn getaboshi."

**…**

**…**

When Urahara walked from the room, he smiled politely at the men and woman at his kotastu table, all drinking their respective teas. Renji was there, Shinji, Yoruichi, Tessai, Jinta, and Sado.

"Good afternoon, everyone~!" He greeted brightly.

"Yo," Renji greeted casually, "Rukia okay?"

"She's great!" He said, "Just a bit under the weather."

Shinji snorted, "Ya mean stabbed through the chest." Renji glared at him.

As Urahara made his way to his own room, Yoruichi grabbed his shoulder, her eyes hard, body tense. She looked up at him, "How is he?"

He replied with a grin from behind his fan, "Oh, he's fine, Yoruichi-san."

Her eyes narrowed.

He giggled, "Well, he's 'head-over-heels', as you say." Before she could snap at him, he said, "But, I think I can break through the mold. He's not that far gone."

"So you're gonna help him?" demanded the woman, "Kisuke, you know it's not a good—"

"He's in love," the pale blonde shrugged. Suddenly, he leaned close, nose-to-nose, "And we both know how stupid you get when you're in love." he brushed a hair behind her ear.

Before she could reply, he was already in his room, and she was left puzzled and bothered.

**…**

**…**

"Hey, anybody awake in here?"

Rukia's indigo eyes fluttered open. In the threshold, there stood Renji, shock of red hair and all. A bandage on his cheek, wrapped around his head, and his arm in a makeshift cast.

He met her eye and she attempted to smile. He made his way over to her with a Renji-smile and a thumbs-up, "Ah! So you survived, Rukia. I was sure when they ganged up on us, we were goners."

Rukia stared up at him, her eyes filling with tears. The flashes of the other night were still fresh in her mind, and she tightened her grip around her blankets. She could still remember his warm hands clutching her close as the guards had shouted orders,

_"Surrender now!" _

_"I refuse!"_ The red-haired had grunted, covered in thick blood, crimson hair falling around her. She remembered how she'd stared up at him in utter astonishment, whispering his name through numb lips. It was only a second before the guards attacked.

She smiled weakly, eyes tightening a fraction, "Y-Yeah. Thank you for coming for me."

He arched a brow, "You thought I wouldn't come for you?" he crossed his arms over his chest, though it was awkward with his broken arm, "Some kind of noble you are."

Blushing furiously, she wiggled against the ground unhappily, "You're lucky I'm stuck or I would knock your brain out of your head!" Renji grinned at her saucily and she inhaled deeply, "And don't bring up things like that. It only makes me more frustrated."

Renji was quiet for a moment, "The night before…the guards were saying something about Kuchiki. Your brother still works for the Calvary?"

Her eyes hardened, "You know he is. He's the one who told the Empress where Orihime was."

He rolled his eyes, "It's still unbelievable. I can't believe I promised the Princess of Japan that she could braid my hair one day. She was like a little kid. Really excited and bubbly and everything…"

Rukia sighed heavily, "This will not end well." She looked over at Ichigo's back, which was facing her. He was quiet, and she wondered if he was asleep. Returning her attention to Renji, she said, "He wants to go after her."

Renji glanced at Ichigo, "What? That's stupid. Ya win some, ya loose some."

_Bonk!_

"OW! The hell, Rukia?!"

"Idiot! Don't you see? This is our only chance." She was glaring at him fiercely. "Japan is falling apart: wars, death, and the outrageous laws. This is the only chance we'll have to actually make a change."

The redhead narrowed his eyes at Rukia, "What're you saying? Take over Japan?"

"No, idiot. I'm saying if we talk with Orihime, if we somehow talk some sense into the Empress, we'll be able to make a change." She seemed excited over the idea, "We can make a _change_, Renji. We can help."

"You wanna go to Karakura Kingdom and talk to the Empress? Are you outta your mind? No way you'll survive, much less get past the guards."

"That's why I'm going with Ichigo."

"No, you're not."

"Huh?"

"As if I would let you go on some suicide mission to save a princess! This ain't a fairytale, Rukia. This is real life. This is the Empress of Japan, the head of our country. We met Orihime by chance, not by fate. All we can do now is heal up and then start traveling again. I heard there's some really good jobs up North—"

Rukia glowered at him, "Orihime is our friend. Aren't you worried for her?"

"That was her fiancé, Rukia. Not some stranger."

"Didn't look like it to me, boke. Orihime looked scared. Petrified. She didn't want to go with him. I saw her face, Renji. And I am not stupid. If Ichigo thinks it's right to save her, then I will."

"You're both crazy!"

"You're an idiot for not thinking the same thing! Orihime wanted to braid your hair, stupid! No one _ever_ wants to touch your hair!"

"W-What—Look, this ain't about my hair. It's about your dumb daydreams. We're yakuza, Rukia. We kill people. The Calvary aren't very fond of our kind. And that's why we nearly died last night. Orihime belongs in the castle. That's where she should stay."

"Renji—"

"Shut up, would ya?" Ichigo had sat up, his eyes narrowed dangerously as he glared at the two. Rukia and Renji jerked, shocked. "I'm so sick and tired of hearin' your petty arguments." He faced Rukia, "You're not coming, anyway. I'm doing this alone."

"What!" exclaimed Rukia, "You can't be serious."

"Rukia, just listen to him—"

"No!" She sat up, with great difficulty, but she was up. With a few grunts, she was facing Ichigo, who stared at her, surprised. The emotion on her face was something he'd never seen before, desperate and overwhelming, "Ichigo! What are you talking about? If you get hurt, then I'll support you! If you can't move, idiot, I'll fight in your place! We're friends, right?! I'll never leave you to fight alone!"

She panted when she was done, staring up at Ichigo with those slender indigo eyes. Renji was watching this all, shocked, as Ichigo gazed down at her, his expression unreadable.

Finally, he reached up a hand and ran it through his thick orange locks, "Yeah. And that's why I always count on you."

She smirked a bit before turning to Renji, her smirk widening into a grin, "Let's go get us a Princess!"

Renji merely rolled his eyes again, "You guys are exhausting." He turned his face away, "This means I'll have to try and reach Kenpachi…even Ikkaku and Yumichika." And then he shrugged, "Oh, well. I bet they're not doing anything interesting anyway." He grinned, "Let's do it."

**…**

**…**

Nothing changed.

The scenery, the cold, and even the _silence_.

Hisagi discreetly raised his gaze to stare at the redhead, long red-gold locks flying around her pale face. She looked tired, yet serene. The look on her face was indescribable, made her even more beautiful than she already was. It was a vague expression—somehow heartbreaking sad and soft.

Ulquiorra, though, was still impeccable as ever, not a hair out of place, as though he hadn't walked through a battlefield and slaughtered his longtime rival, Kurosaki Ichigo. Hisagi cupped a hand over the wound on his forearm. He had managed to quell the bleeding, but it still hurt like a bitch. He grimaced deeply.

"Woman," Ulquiorra's voice was toneless and curt. Orihime kept her gaze out the window, on the passing trees and people.

"We are getting closer…" She finally murmured, her voice soft, "Closer to…to…"

"Your home," the prince replied, staring at her now.

"Yes," she said, without looking at him. "And farther away from Ichigo." Hisagi watched as she lifted a hand and grabbed onto something on her neck, but instead, grabbed then air. Her eyelids lowered.

"Don't say that trash's name in my presence, woman." Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed, "And I advise you keep his name out of the Kingdom as well. The Empress will not be pleased when she hear who you've been with all this time."

To Hisagi's surprise, she spun around and faced her fiancé. There was a rather sly glint in her eye, though her smile was sad, "You're right." And then she said nothing more. When the cart came to a stop, Ulquiorra and Orihime was assisted from the carriage. Hisagi was attended to immediately, medics already on the elaborate stairs of the palace.

Orihime paused in mid-step, gazing up at the palace, as though she didn't recognize it. Had she really spent her entire life at a place like this? She almost smiled to herself. She had grown so accustomed to roaming along a trail, taking up residents in someone else's home, and following after a black-cladded back, wherever he may go.

A thin hand wrapped around Orihime's upper arm, "Princess, oh Princess! It is so good to see you! And, oh! Your clothes! They're soiled. Please, come, come." The woman was tugging her towards the stairs, where Ulquiorra stood, watching her keenly, hands tucked in his pockets. Orihime blinked, returning to the presence. She remembered that maid—Aoi-san, who had taken such good care of her when she was a child. She felt that vague twist of guilt. She had left her with no word of farewell. "Your Majesty?"

Aoi was tilting her head at her, worry in her dark eyes.

Orihime attempted a smile, attempted to be strong in front of her, "Yes, Aoi-san?"

"You…you are crying," the maid said softly. she shook her head, pulling a hankerchief from her waist, "Oh, my. You must've been so frightened. Out in the world like that." She patted Orihime's cheek delicately.

The tears came without warning, trickling down her cheeks and off her chin. She could remember rough fingers brushing away her tears, warm lips pressing against her cheeks, and warm brown eyes gazing into hers. Her knees failed her and she collapsed in front of the Palace's steps, weeping out her dreams, her heart, and her sorrows.

How was she supposed to bear this weight? Bear this heart ache?

_Ichigo, Ichigo, Ichigo!_

"Oh! Oh, Ojou-sama! Are you alright? Your Majesty?" The maid's cries went unanswered.

Silently, Ulquiorra watched the two, gazing at his fiancé's face for only a moment longer before turning and retreating into the Palace.

**…**

**…**

He couldn't sleep.

Ichigo stared up at the ceiling, the moon the only light in the small room. Rukia was asleep soundly, snoring quietly, and Renji was leaning against the wall, arms folded, asleep as well. Ichigo lie awake, his blankets covering his hips and his naked chest felt cold. He did not move though, watching as the lights danced on the ceiling.

_"You're fatally injured and your head is in the clouds. If you go there now, you'll die."_

Urahara's words were still echoing fresh in his mind. His eyes tightened a fraction.

_"I'll teach you everything I know." _

He tightened his fist around something and then closed his eyes. He tried to imagine her there beside him, and she was a wild sleeper, so it was rather hard. He could imagine her, curling into him like a cat, one leg thrown over his waist, hands pressed against his chest, and her face nuzzled into his neck. Her scent would be everywhere, he knew, because she was everywhere.

Shifting the clips in his palm, he took them in his large fingers. If she had given them to him when they first met, he probably would've ran off and pawned them. He stared at them for a long moment, watching as they shimmered and shined, just like her spice-brown eyes.

Slowly, he pressed them to his lips, eyes falling shut.

Her eyes, her hair, her pouts, her smiles, her skin, her hands, her body, her fuckin' heart.

He wanted it back. And he intended on doing just that.

**…**

**…**

**Meh. Sorry about this chapter. It feels like I didn't do the best I could. I can usually write much better than this, you've seen it, but I just felt like crap today. At first, I got a message from Kat and she had asked when I would update again. I had already been working on the chapter, so I said why not, I'll finish it. **

**I had been late because, just a few days ago, my grandmother received her hospital bed, which was placed in her room and she can't leave it unless her nurse says she can. So she eats and uses the restroom in there. I keep her company, but when I saw the hospital bed, it just made everything more real: her illness, how it would turn out, and how I wouldn't be able to see that face for much longer. Of course, she smiled at me when I voiced these concerns and told me not to worry. **

**I'm very hardheaded, so I didn't listen much. So I've been wallowing all week, I couldn't even enjoy my Spring Break, and instead, stayed in. So, really, I've been sitting here just staring at all my documents and half-done chapters. Sorry, you guys. Inner turmoil sucks. And then, just after that, I get into a huge argument with my mom about school and college, and I thought I wouldn't even be able to update. After crying myself to sleep, I woke up around two and started this chapter. Depressing, right? Ugh. I'm such a…UGH! Well, anyways, here's the finish product. **

**Anyway, I hoped you at least liked the chapter. I felt as though I could do better, but I tried. I guess that's all, besides I was kind of shocked to see how many of you liked Tangled Shadows. You're a bunch of perverts~! And I have to update Everything in Between. So look out for that!**

**Um, review please. Wish to know what you think. Oh, and there may be some typos. I don't really feel like sorting it out now, but will do in the morning. **

**-Star**


	17. Chapter 17

**…**

**…**

_Large eyes blinked._

_Sora continued to smile gently._

_"Are you sure, Onii-chan?"_

_"I wouldn't be asking this of you if I wasn't."_

**…**

**…**

The subtle click of heels broke Orihime from her thoughts. For a moment, she sat still on her bed, lashes protecting her bronze gaze. When her door opened, she braced herself for whatever possible, only for a maid to enter the room. She was carrying a silver platter and her gaze was motherly, kind, regarding Orihime familiarly.

"You're…" The Princess swallowed, "You're not Tatsuki-chan."

The maid tilted her head to the side, surprised, "Eh? You mean Arisawa?" Orihime didn't reply, and the maid took that as a yes, "Oh. Arisawa was—she _left_ weeks ago, Ojou-sama."

Orihime gazed at her a long moment before lowering her eyes, a small secret smile gracing her lips, "I understand."

The maid smiled sweetly, "Yes, well. The chef personally prepared your favorite dish, Your Majesty." She held it out towards Orihime, but the redhead shook her head. Nodding, the maid placed it on the end of her chesterfield. "It appears you don't have an appetite. That's understandable, since you've been outside of the Palace's walls for so long. But I have to get you dressed for later, Your Majesty. You should bathe and I'll fetch your dress."

The maid bowed at the waist and then turned away, and left the room. Orihime sat in silence for a long moment. Tatsuki-chan was gone, was she? And where would she possibly go? Did she go out looking for her? Or maybe returned home? She had said nothing of the sort, so Orihime was left alone and wondering.

Slowly, the Princess stood. The large mirror in front of her dresser gleamed against the sunlight. For a moment, she watched her reflection. It did not look like her. The girl was pale, bronze eyes wide and teary. Orihime lifted one hand and her reflection copied her. Just a couple of months ago, Orihime would've been in a beautiful gown, attending a feast, watching her parents discuss over Karakura and eat in silence.

But just a few days ago, she would've been walking down a dirt road. Would've been poking fun at a caterpillar as she listened to Ishida-kun and Ichigo argue. And she would've stood and stopped it, and Ishida-kun would've been the bigger man and turned away, and she would turn to Ichigo, asking if he was alright, only for him to pull her into a deep kiss, only for her to want to be closer, keep him close, only for them to be as one, her hands in his hair, her chest against his, her forehead resting against his chest.

But now—

Her reflection was crying. Thick tears trickled down the pale cheeks and stained the yellow kimono. It was still stained with Ishida-kun's blood. With trembling hands, she undid the obi and then shed the clothing off of her shoulders. It fell, pooling around her feet.

Her bath was already steaming and ready when she entered the bathing room. Ignoring the different fragrances and bottles, she stepped into the hot bath and tried to imagine herself in Urahara's basement, in his small bath, and tried to succumb to the tranquility around her. It wasn't long until her eyelids were fluttering and she was back where she belonged.

His grin, his arms, his dark amber eyes.

_"Ah. If it isn't Kitten."_

_"Why would you save someone like me?"_

_"Don't leave my side without my permission, Kitten. Don't until we finish this bullshit trip, got it?"_

_"And, fuck, I love you for it."_

"Ojou-sama? Ojou-sama?"

Orihime's eyelashes fluttered open. There was the maid from earlier, eyes earnest and startled. Orihime sat up, red-gold hair plastered to her cheeks, shoulders, and neck. Her fingers were prunes and the water was chilly. She looked up, shivering, watching as the maid smiled at her gently.

"You fell asleep in the bath, Ojou-sama. Good thing I came in. You could've…Oh, dear me." She waved a hand and frowned, as though her thoughts were so terrifying. And then she was helping Orihime out of the bath and drying her off. Before the redhead knew it, she was sitting down in a comfy, extravagant chair, in front of the mirror and felt her face being plucked at, scrubbed, and wiped on.

She was dressed. It annoyed her. She was so used to dressing herself, bathing in the cold river, combing her own hair. The dress was like liquid gold—smooth and long. The top was tight thanks to her corset and had no sleeves, leaving out her delicate shoulders. The bottom was full and flared out, and she was grateful it didn't draw attention to her hips. The maid picked out some ridiculously high heels and long gloves that reached her elbows.

"The Queen wishes to speak with you before dinner, Ojou-sama," was the maid's last words before she left the room, humming cheerily underneath her breath. Orihime waited for the door to close behind her before kicking off her shoes and removing the gloves.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Yes, she did look beautiful. Her hair was up in a neat, braided bun and her bangs framed either side of her face. Her eyelashes looked fuller than usual, her lips were painted a soft pink, and her cheeks were rosy. She didn't look like the broken girl who arrived just hours prior. She stood from her chair, her floor cool to the touch. Thanks to her long dress, no one would notice.

She closed the door after her, and was thoroughly shocked to see six guards standing in front of her chambers. Only one turned when she walked from the room and smiled politely at her.

She cleared her throat, "W-What is the meaning of this?"

"The Empress's orders. She wishes for us to escort you wherever you go."

Orihime bristled, "Escort me? I've never needed anything of the sort."

The guard eyed her disbelievingly, "Pardon me, Princess, but I think it has something to do with your recent departure. It seems…" He trailed off, searching for the right choice of words.

"That she doesn't trust me," Orihime snapped, eyes flaring, "None of you do."

He stammered for a moment, startled. He was the second in command when it came to the Royal Guard and had been working under Hisagi for over seventeen years. He'd never had a problem with Orihime, and she was typically very friendly and endearing. Never before had she raised her voice or glared at any of them.

"P-Princess…"

Orihime sighed heavily and picked up her skirts. She began to walk briskly through the lush hallways, the guards right behind her, calling her name and asking for her to slow down. She did not, and by time she made it to the throne room, she was panting and staring up at her mother.

She smiled sweetly—Orihime flinched at the venom in her eyes. "Ah. Good evening, Orihime. I've been waiting for quite some time now." She took a step off of the stairs, eyes narrowing onto her daughter, "Quite a while, actually."

Orihime swallowed at her double-meaning, dropping her hands to her sides. Her courage left her suddenly, draining her from the inside out.

"Leave us," The Queen's words were sharp and the guards practically stumbled from the room, closing the doors gently after them. In the silence, Orihime met her mother's eyes once more as the woman stopped in front of her. "You have been in your room for several days now, haven't you?"

It took Orihime a moment to find her voice. Her mouth felt dry. "Y-Yes. Well, I've been a bit under weather ever since I…returned."

Another smile touched the Empress's lips, "Of course. Tell me," Suddenly, her thin fingers wrapped around Orihime's chin and forced her face up, "How was your trip?"

"Mother—"

She tightened her grip and Orihime almost flinched at the rage dancing in her mother's brown gaze, "_Tell me_. How was it?"

"I—"

"Met anyone? Make any friends? Learn anything?" She fired off the questions as though she'd spent all those weeks thinking of them and Orihime knew she had. "Were you out there whoring yourself off? Ruining my Kingdom?"

Orihime felt small. She felt like the eight-year-old girl who would stand in front of her mother. Her mother would scold her, yell at her, _hit_ her until she was sobbing. She squeezed her eyes shut. She was no longer that girl, she was no longer little, she was no longer weak. She'd slipped past guards, she'd fought a man, she'd wielded a sword, she'd watched blood touch her feet and hands. She was no longer a _delicate_ Princess.

Snatching her chin back from her mother's grip, she took a large step back, glaring at her, "_Don't_ touch me." her voice was cold, cutting and the Queen gazed at her in blatant shock. "And don't throw such accusations when you know _nothing_!"

"Nothing?" barked the Queen when she gathered herself. "I know _everything_, daughter. Believe me. You think I know nothing of yakuza? You're precious Kurosaki Ichigo?"

Orihime had already built herself to come to this moment. She wiped her face of any emotion, "I don't know what you are—"

"Do you see me as a _fool_ of some sort? I know exactly who I'm talking about. He's disgusting, a murder, a _killer_—"

"You don't know him!" Orihime practically shrieked, "How dare y—"

And then Orihime's cheek was stinging. It felt as though it were on fire. Her mother had slapped her. This she should've been used to, but instead, it did nothing but burn away in her chest. Enraged, she faced the Empress. She was pink-faced, eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You will not raise your voice at me," she hissed venomously. "Nothing has changed. You are still my daughter, I am still your mother, and you are still royalty. Do not think just because you left for some time that you can do and say whatever you please. I am done with your insolence. You will never leave this Palace again! _Ever_!"

Orihime stared up at her mother, one hand on her stinging cheek, and the other tightened into a fist.

"Do you understand me?"

Orihime's eyelids lowered slowly, hands clasping in front of her, and her stomach felt like it was tied into knots. Swallowing, she uttered a quiet, "Yes."

The Queen smiled, and it was as sharp as a knife. "Good. Now that you have returned to the Kingdom, it is time to prepare your wedding."

Orihime's eyes narrowed, but she did not lift her gaze.

"It's just in a few days. And after the wedding," the Empress's smile widened, a secret smile, "We'll reveal you to the Kingdom for the first time. That way," she brushed down her dress, eyes flashing, "you'll never leave this Palace again."

**…**

**…**

"I can't believe this shit," Renji groused, throwing his hands up, "You guys are _serious_!"

"I thought that was clear," Rukia said, frowning, "Urahara-san said he would teach us everything. Learning the Palace isn't hard, just getting through it is."

"Rukia," Renji glared down at her, "You've gone mad. Ichigo's gone mad. Everyone gone bloody mad—" The end of Zangestu hit Renji's nose. The redhead staggered backwards, clutching his bleeding nose, and hissed between clenched teeth, "Dammit, Ichigo! The hell was that for?!"

"Don't call me crazy, asshole," Ichigo snapped back.

Rukia looked up at him, startled. He was shirtless and sweaty. But he still had on his fresh bandages. After all, it had only been three days. Frowning deepening, she remarked, "Are you supposed to be up?"

He quirked a brow at her, "Are you?"

Smirking, the black-haired said, "I'm not the one who almost died, idiot. It's just a little scratch for me." she patted her chest, but then winced at the lace of pain. "I can take it."

Renji's glare had sharpened tenfold as it landed on her, blood dripping down his upper lip, "_Fuck_, Rukia, are you an _idiot_?" He faced Ichigo, sneering, "And you, that shit fucking _hurt_!"

This time, Rukia hit him, a quick, fierce roundhouse. She clutched at her chest when she landed on the ground, but smirked when Renji fell to the ground, groaning. It was worth it. She then turned to Ichigo, arching a brow. Pointing a finger over his shoulder, she said, "Ichigo, Urahara-san is—"

"Shit!" Ichigo dodged out of the way, just in time for Urahara's sword slice the air. Growling, the orange-haired spun around to face the pale blonde, "Bastard, catching me off guard like that!"

"Ohoo~" Urahara whistled, tilting his head, "You should know better, Ichigo-san. How on earth are you supposed to fight anyone in the Royal Guard if you are distracted?"

Ichigo glowered at him, eyes hard, "Shaddup, you damn idiot. I'll cut down anyone in my fuckin' way." Their swords met fiercely, sparks flying, and Ichigo grounded his molars as Urahara's smirk widened.

"Not good enough, Ichigo," A foot slammed into his side. Shinji grinned down at him, and brought down his sword. Ichigo snapped his head to the side, the blade missing him by an inch, "This ain't child's play, dumbass."

"You fuckers…" Ichigo growled, "are cheating, dammit!"

Rukia sighed, watching as Ichigo nearly slashed Shinji's head off. The two blonde's backed off for a moment before lunging at her friend once again. With a shake of her head, she looked towards the brooding Renji. Sado was standing beside him, and Grimmjow was twitching a few feet away, wishing to join the battle. "Ishida left, huh?"

"…Yes," Sado mumbled quietly.

Renji shrugged his shoulders, "He said somethin' about lookin' for somethin' on his own. I wasn't really surprised. Urahara said he should wait a few days to heal, but the prick left without even lookin' back. I can tell it bugged Ichigo. When I told him, he got real quiet and turned over."

Rukia snorted, "Yeah. I could hear him cursing Ishida in his sleep."

"You don't think…" Renji locked eyes with her, "He liked him, do you? Like, as a friend?"

Rukia glanced at Ichigo, watching as he shouted and cursed and fought fiercely. She frowned thoughtfully, "No. But I think he trusted him. He trusted him a lot. Maybe even with his life."

Renji rolled his eyes, "Yeah, right."

"Or maybe, he trusted him enough to stay."

**…**

**…**

"Fuck…" Ichigo cradled his aching left shoulder. With a scowl, he dropped his hand and eased himself into the hot bath. Shit. Everything hurt. Even his damn fingertips. Urahara hadn't been kidding when he said he would train him, increase his endurance. They had been fighting for twenty hours straight. It didn't take long for Urahara and Shinji to move from bokkens and use their actual swords.

There was a nasty gash on the back of his head, and a cut on his cheek. His lip was busted and his knuckles were raw. Shinji didn't actually stab him anywhere, but was sure to leave his mark with bruises and scrapes. Urahara, though, liked to leave a bit more than that, and there were small cuts dotting his sides, arms, and legs.

It fuckin' _hurt_.

And tomorrow, Ichigo was supposed to learn everything about the castle. After all, the damn getaboshi had only given him three days. Three days to gather his bearings, fight until he couldn't anymore, and learn everything there was to know about Karakura Kingdom.

Scowling, he dunked his head in the scorching water and then rose, allowing the water to fall down his forehead, cheeks, temples, nose, and chin. He was glad to be alone, actually. All day, everyone around him had pestered him. He wasn't an idiot, dammit. Rukia, though, was worried. Any time they were alone, she would ask,

_"You're not hurting, are you?" _

Heh. She thought it was the same thing as with Senna. Yeah, right. Orihime was nothing like Senna. Ichigo had told them all before: _Orihime is Orihime._ She was no replacement, no copy, she was her own person. Plus, she was the Princess of Japan. He didn't think Senna could compete with that. Snorting, he leaned back in the bath, eyes rising to the ceiling.

Damn. Now he was thinking about her again. He had told himself he wouldn't do that until he saw her again, but then he was seeing her bright smile, seeing her long hair, seeing her bronze eyes staring up at him. Hearing her clumsy steps, hearing her soft whimpers, hearing her,

_"Kurosaki-saaan~!" _

He was glaring at the ceiling now. "Damn…"

_"You're an idiot,"_ Yoruichi had told him the day prior, _"Why go through this much trouble for one girl?" _

He had hesitated—hesitated telling her his soft-spoken words, _"I won't meet another girl like her again throughout this lifetime."_

And that was true, wasn't it? He doubted anyone could amount up to Orihime. Yoruichi told him he should think everything over, she was the Princess this and she was the Princess that. As if he gave a shit. She was Orihime, wasn't she? The one with silly smiles and big eyes and fat heart. She was gorgeous, inside and out. And he would get her back, whether any of them liked it or not.

His thoughts were becoming dangerous. He missed her. He missed her like _hell_. He missed her more than killing people, he missed her more than getting into fights, he missed her more than damn _Senna_. And he'd never thought that would be possible. He hated this, he hated the distance between them, and he hated how fucked up everything was.

He didn't know it would feel this way. If he did, he wouldn't have let her leave with that asshole. She wouldn't have let her get on that big-ass carriage, he wouldn't have let her say goodbye. He knew it wouldn't be long until he was storming up to the castle and taking her back, but at the moment, he was missing her and thinking of her and glaring at the ceiling as though it was the person who took her.

He tightened his hand into a fist, where Orihime's precious jewels rested.

"Ichigo~!" Shinji sing-songed from the other side of the door, "What's wrong? Hidin' from my sword?"

With a vague look passing over his face, he dipped his entire body and head into the water. He would rather be left with his thoughts.

_Wait for me. _

**…**

**…**

"I would appreciate if you did not follow me everywhere," Orihime chided quietly. Hands bunched in her lap, she walked along with the group of soldiers. They were like a room, like walls. They were everywhere, behind her, in front of her, on either side. Furrowing her brows, she pursed her lips.

Sighing, the guard in front of her replied, "Usually, we would do anything to make you content, Your Majesty. However, the Empress has asked us to keep a very good eye on you. You cannot leave our sight, I'm afraid. And until Captain Hisagi recovers, I am in charge of the Royal Guard."

Orihime's eyes narrowed, glaring at his back, "What is your name?"

Tensing, the guard cleared his throat a few times, "It is Kaien. May I ask why you want to know, Your Majesty?"

"So I can know who to discharge once Hisagi-san returns," Orihime sniffed, averting her gaze. Shocked, the guard whirled around to face her. She refused to look at him. The other guards watched in amusement and bewilderment. The Princess had changed—it was as if she were a new person. They could only await Hisagi's return to know exactly what had happened to make to Princess behave like _this_. The rest of the walk was relatively silent, only the clank of the guards' armor and the slide of Orihime's bare feet.

Finally, when they made it to the dining room, Orihime stepped inside and was escorted to her seat. No one was there yet, and Orihime looked towards the guards, "Ulquiorra-sama should be here in no time, Ojou-sama. Please enjoy your supper and if you need anything, we will be in the hallway."

"That is unnecessary," Orihime said.

"It is _necessary_," Kaien said, tone sharper than usual. "You are the _Princess_."

She frowned, more like a pout, and the guards turned and left. The large, empty plate in front of her was clean enough to show her reflection. She was tired of looking at it. She toyed with her silverware, trying to keep her thoughts from anything dangerous, anything that included a certain orange-haired.

She shook her head.

Just then, the doors opened. Ulquiorra stepped inside, dressed impeccably, and expression blank. He glanced towards her, "Good evening."

She started and then looked back towards her plate, "Good evening."

He walked towards the opposite side of the extravagant table. He dragged his hand against the pristine white cloth and then took a seat. It wasn't long until the cooks and maids were sweeping into the room, placing different foods on the table. Even Orihime's favorites. But, as she stared down at the stuffed pig, the rice, the thick buns, she felt her stomach roll over. She hadn't eaten in four days, and she didn't think she would ever eat again.

She inhaled deeply and tried to ignore the rising bile in her throat. Instead, she watched as a maid placed a bowl of smooth soup in front of her, along with Ulquiorra. The workers left a moment later, bowing and whispering amongst each other. The door closed behind them.

"You look enchanting," Ulquiorra said, eyes locking on her. "The gown suits you."

She attempted a smile, "T-Thank you." Her hands tightened into fists in her lap, bunching into her skirts.

"You," Ulquiorra murmured a few moments later, "are crying,"

Startled, Orihime raised a hand and pressed it against her hot cheek. True to his word, there was wetness. She hadn't even realized. The warm droplets were falling into her soup and wrinkling her reflection.

"I'm…I-I'm sorry—"

"Woman," his voice was low, "you should forget it now."

"Forget?"

"This will not continue. We are to be married in several days. Whatever happened outside of these Palace's walls, you are never to discuss. It is better if you forget it. Do not even think of it in my presence." He said, his tone final.

"I…" Orihime looked up and met his cold gaze, "I cannot forget the man I love."

His eyes narrowed.

Before he could object, she continued, "I cannot forget him. And I don't want to. I don't want to forget his face, or his scars, or his words. I don't want to forget how he walks and how he curses and how rough his hands are. I don't want any of that. I don't want _this_."

"This?"

"This marriage. This _lie_!" She practically spat at him, eyes flaring up with such passion and emotion that he looked surprised for only a second. "I don't want any part of _you_, Ulquiorra."

He stabbed his knife into his steak before uttering calmly, "You speak as if you know me."

"I do. Ichimaru-san told me enough." His eyes snapped up to her, narrowing into slits. He didn't have to say anything. She already knew, "You will not have my Kingdom, Ulquiorra-san."

"And what will you do to stop me, woman?" He asked, his tone deadly, "I have more power of this Kingdom than you do yourself. And we're not even bound yet."

_"You sick, manipulative—"_

The doors opened. The guards stepped in. Ulquiorra rose from his seat, his food untouched. "I believe I am done. I will retire for the evening. Good night, _fiancé_."

Orihime watched as he left the room, his own group of guards and maids following after him. She literally trembled from rage, eyes shimmering. She wished she could hurt him—the first time in her life she wanted to hurt someone willingly, wanted to shove something down his throat.

Kaien approached her cautiously, "Your Majesty?"

"Please," she whispered, looking up at him with those spice-brown eyes, "I wish to return to my quarters as well."

"Of course, Your Majesty." He pulled out her chair. She was walking before he could follow, and the guards hurried to catch up.

Frowning, the guard stared at the table. The food hadn't even been touched.

**…**

**…**

_"I'll heal and now I know where you live, where you'll be waiting for me, Kitten. So shut the fuck up."_

Please hurry, Ichigo.

...

...

**Yay~! Finished! Finally, it took, like, three days. Because I kept pausing on certain parts. Well, be excited for next chapter: the WEDDING, and ICHIHIME! Yes, yes. Sorry, I was going to keep Orihime and Ichigo apart more, but I can't stand the thought of them being away from each other. **

**Now, I have to update Her, but also, I have to ask you guys a question. At least three people have PM'd me and asked for me to write a Fairy Tail fic. Well, I've only thought of writing one real pairing, and that was Gajeel/Levy. I just wanted to know, if I did write it, would you guys read it? Probably not, huh? Since we're all strictly Ichihime, but I love switching around a bit. It doesn't really matter, I just love writing~**

**Well'p, whatever. Love this chapter and love Ichigo and Orihime! Oh, and did anyone know that the person he voices Ulquiorra in the anime also voices Shouta from Kimi Ni Todoke? I was like "whaaaaaat?" when I saw it. No. Way. That just makes Ulquiorra even cuter. Also, I'm working on two new Ichihime one-shots. And you know how my one-shots are: LOOONG~ So look out for those!**

**Please review. It makes me soooooo happy!**

**-Star**


	18. Chapter 18

**…**

**…**

The door slid open.

Yoruichi arched a brow, watching the strong, naked back of the orange-haired. He shrugged on his top and then reached down, plucking up Zangestu before fastening it to his back. The black blade shined in the dull moonlight.

It was almost dawn. She was dressed, and leaned against the threshold, "You're really doing this," she uttered a moment later, "You're really going to go save her." Her tone wasn't surprised or upset, just rather condescending. Ichigo didn't turn to face her as he grabbed his extra daggers and tied them down. "Even after everything I've told you. I've raised you and this is how you repay me."

He snorted then, throwing her an unreadable look over his shoulder, "You always said I was gonna fall for a Princess."

Her eyebrow cocked, "Yeah. But I didn't mean a _real_ _one_, fool." She clenched and unclenched her fists, her eyes sharp as steel now, "Falling in love with a _real_ _one_ will get you killed."

He shrugged his powerful shoulders, "I'd like to go out like that. Dying for what I love and in a battle, too. That'd be fun."

"It's not a game, Ichigo," She said through clenched teeth, "You're going to get hurt. You're going to—"

"I won't die, old woman," He turned to face her, a smug, boyish smirk on his face. Her yellow eyes narrowed. "I won't die before you do, at least. Is that good enough for you?"

For a second, she stared at him. And then she turned her face away, swiping a rough thumb under her left eye. She crossed her arms over her chest firmly, and let out a sigh, "You better keep that promise, Ichigo."

"I will."

"And," she tightened her hands into round, shaking balls against her chest, "You better bring her back here. Just so I can knock upside the head for lying."

He was grinning now, "Careful. Her head is as hard as a fuckin' rock."

**…**

**…**

"Y-Your Majesty!"

"I can bathe myself, Aoi-san."

"Please sit still." A pause, "You know, your sleeping schedule is all off. I swear. You go to sleep too late and wake up too early. It's unnerving, Your Majesty. Who'd you pick up such ways from? And, also, it seems we're going to have to reteach you how to hold a fork properly. You've been eating with your hands far too many times. It's beginning to upset the Empress."

Orihime mumbled something underneath her breath, and it sounding shockingly close to, "I don't care". Aoi shot her a look, full of concern and anxiety. She scrubbed harder at the Princess's pale, slender back, "Please, Ojou-sama. You mustn't speak that way. It will only upset her more."

"I want to go home, Aoi-san," Orihime murmured, resting her chin on her knees. Aoi appeared confused for a moment before Orihime spoke again, "I want to be home with the man I love. I want to run in the grass and braid Renji-kun's hair and run around with Kuchiki-san and learn archery from Ishida-kun." She tightened her grip around her thighs, "I _despise_ it here."

The servant didn't say anything, instead she dumped a bucket of cool water over the Princess's head, causing her she shiver. And then she was wrapping a fluffy cloth around her and pulling her from the bath.

"Breakfast will be ready in a while, Ojou-sama. Please get dressed."

Instead of stepping into the dress that the maid left out, Orihime redressed in her nightgown. The type of nightgown that covered every part of her, long-sleeved, to her ankles, and left her feeling cold and trapped. So, barefoot, she left her room and scurried down the hall. The guards weren't there, much to her surprise, since they'd been following he around ever since she'd returned. When she made a few twists and turns down the grand, long halls, she paused and look around.

She remembered a bit. If she thought hard enough, she could remember the time she tripped over here. Her mother had berated her—_no Princess was supposed to have scars_—it hadn't scarred, the scrape on her knee, thanks to herbs and the tending of the maids. In fact, Orihime's skin was flawless and even, even after her long adventure, even when she fought against men one-hundred pounds bigger than her. She wished she could have a scar, just one.

Just like Ichigo, who's scars she would trace and mesmerize until she fell asleep.

Somehow, her feet took her to the library. She remembered Sora-nii taking her here, reading to her. She shook her head at herself, shaking away the memories. So, to distract herself, she walked towards the edge of the library, where she hid Sora-nii's old journals and favorite books. She turned around a large bookshelf and then froze.

"…!"

"Oh, good morning, Princess." Her fiancé greeted softly, his emerald eyes on the book in his pale, thin hands.

Her heart was stuttering away. She clenched her hands by her sides, trying to stay composed—_trying to stay like a Princess_. Swallowing, she said, "Good morning, Ulquiorra-sama."

He slowly brought his eyes up to look at her, dragging his eyes from her hair, face, and body. His expression didn't change, "You're not dressed properly. Are you unwell?" He was sitting in a dark green chair that looked amazingly uncomfortable and matched his eyes. His legs were crossed, and he was in the far corner, as though as he never wanted to be found.

She stared at him a long moment. He appeared interested, if only a bit. It was…_strange_. Just yesterday, they had been spitting at each other, as though they hated the other's guts. Her fists loosened and she cocked her head to the side, placing her hands behind her back, "No. I am fine. Thank you, Ulquiorra-sama."

He shrugged, and it seemed so casual for a man like him, "No need for formalities, I suppose. Since, just the other evening, you despised me." She opened her mouth to say something, but he continued smoothly, "And that you were in love with another man."

She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him. She stood utterly still before speaking, "Well, I admit to the second part, but I don't very much like the first. I don't hate anyone."

He shifted in his seat a bit, finally looking away from his book. She jerked as those eyes landed on her, so bright and green and piercing. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to be frightened or elated. She guessed the latter wasn't right—she was just smug because had caught his attention, and the second: she wasn't very much scared of him.

He gazed at her, his pale face unreadable, "Hm. Is that so?"

It took her a moment to speak, "Y-Yes. That's right. Actually, I don't even mind your presence. Sure, you're _evil_ and I know nothing about you, but I could never _'despise you'_." Their eyes locked and before she could continue, he returned his attention to his thick book. She bent at the hips, struggling to see the words. They were in Spanish. Standing back straight, she inquired, "You're from Spain, ne? Can you speak in Spanish for me?"

He slowly looked up at her. She thought she saw a bit of irritation on his face.

She smiled, "Just one word. I've never heard any Spanish before."

There was a long moment of silence as he stared at her. Finally, he sighed and closed the book, keeping his thumb between the pages. And he looked her straight in the eye, saying, "_Mujer_."

She looked taken aback. It sounded fluent and very exotic—even pretty as it rolled off his tongue. She tilted her head to the side, "What does that mean?"

"Woman."

Her eyebrows furrowed. He'd called her that a lot, didn't he? Pressing her lips together in a sour pout, she asked, "Don't you know any other words? Your favorites?"

"_Basura_."

"What's that?"

"Trash."

Her pout intensified. She was trying to look intimidating, but instead, looked like an unhappy cat. "Don't you know any _nice_ words, Ulquiorra-sama?"

His head tilted down, and he looked straight at her for a long, tense minute. And then, his lips moved, caressing the one word, "_Prometida_."

Orihime looked openly curious, gazing at him with honest puzzlement. "Eh? What was that?"

He shrugged again, standing gracefully and taking his book along with him. She watched as he walked right past her, shoulder brushing against hers, and then he was gone, closing the library door behind him. She was left confused and frowning to herself.

She didn't hate him—no, she didn't. She didn't _like_ him, that was positive, but she didn't think she could ever hate someone. No matter how many times her mother shoved her around, no matter how many times her maids plucked and pressured her, no matter how many times she shed tears for the things she lost. But he was the man who took her from Ichigo and he was the man working along with Ichimaru.

She could never hate him. Never.

But, she supposed, she could hate herself.

**…**

**…**

"Your Highness…Your Highness…_Your Highness_!"

Orihime's head snapped up. Quickly, Hinamori retracted. She knew Orihime well enough that she had the hardest head in the Kingdom. It had hit her chin on many occasions. The large spice-brown eyes stared up at her. Breathing a long, deep sigh, the brunette frowned disapprovingly at the Princess, "You're late for your etiquette class, you know."

Orihime jerked up from the library floor, frowning a bit, "I don't want to go to any classes today. Cancel all of them, would you, Momo-san?" She returned her attention to large book in front of her, reciting the words underneath her breath.

Hinamori turned a light shade of pink, "You mustn't call me that, Your Highness, please! If the Empress was to hear you say that—"

"Aha!" Orihime pointed a finger at something on a particular page, a bright smile etched onto her face, "_Prometida_." She muttered, frowning now. It sounded off coming from her mouth. Curious now, Momo looked over the girl's shoulder.

"Ojou-sama, what're you doing?" She plucked the book right out of her delicate hands and held it up to her face, ignoring Orihime's protests, "Spanish? That's not one of your lessons."

"B-But Momo-san! What's that word?"

Hinamori tilted her head to the side, "Oh, that? It means bride. Or perhaps fiancé. I always forget. The words are so similar." She closed the book with a snap and placed it on an extravagant wooden table. She looked back towards Orihime, only to see a blank look on her face, "Ojou-sama?"

Orihime's pink lips were parted. She rested her bottom on her feet, hands in her lap, "Fiancé…?"

Puzzled, the short woman nodded, "Yes. Are you feeling alright?"

Orihime blinked a few times, "Um…yes! Yes. I am. Thank you, Momo-san." She stood, scampering right past the woman and out of the library.

"W-Wait! Your Highness! Please!" She held up a pair of slippers, "You have to get dressed! And you're _barefoot_!"

**…**

**…**

Guards.

They were everywhere. Apparently, Hisagi-san would be making his return soon, healing quite nicely wherever he was. Orihime didn't respond to the news when the Royal Guards came to retrieve her from etiquette classes. Nor did she respond when Kaien asked her about her day, too cheerful for a man who would be losing his job soon.

"I heard your reviewing tableware today, Your Majesty. That's good, after all. you've been gone for so long that everyone thought you wouldn't even remember which spoon to eat deserts with. Heh. So how was it?" He looked over at her with those dark eyes. She glanced at him, and then away.

He looked too much like Ichigo. The spikes and smugness in his tone. She scuffed her heels against the shoes purposely, and it sounded ending, final, "I do not wish to speak with you, Kaien-san. If my Mother has asked you to keep me entertained or from getting lonely, let me assure you, I am far from it."

He smiled a bit, "Oh, I know you're not lonely. We follow you everywhere, do we not? Plus, you have a fiancé. Even though you two do not share quarters, I'm sure he keeps you from being alone."

"I do not like what you're implying," Orihime stopped in her tracks, glaring at him now, "Do not speak to me unless it is urgent matter, do you understand, Kaien-san?"

He didn't seem impressed, "I understand, Ojou-sama."

And then she was walking ahead, pink-cheeked, and shaking her head to herself. The guards briskly followed after her, some of them throwing him looks. He did not mind, though.

"She's something interesting," he muttered to himself, "Very, very interesting."

**…**

**…**

"Dinner?" Orihime looked up, startled. Momo looked curious, staring at the maid, who was bowing to the two, "Ulquiorra-sama…wants to have dinner with me?" She demanded, "_Again_?"

Hinamori casted her an arched eyebrow, "What's so shocking about that, Ojou-sama?"

Orihime looked down, biting her bottom lip meekly, "N-Nothing. It's just…we have a lot of disagreements, after all. Just trifle matters, and he's very stubborn. But…" She glanced at the maid, nodding a bit, "Tell him I accept his proposal."

The maid left, nodding, "Don't you usually have your dinners alone, Your Highness?" Momo asked, frowning softly now, "Would you—"

"If I rejected it, Mother would've thrown a fit," proclaimed the redhead as she took a seat on her bed, tucking her legs under her, "And I don't wish to upset her any more than necessary."

Hinamori smiled, "Well, it's good to see you behaving normally again. I'll go fetch your dress." She bowed, smiled a bit more, and then left the room.

Orihime placed her hand at her throat, right where her clips would usually be. She gave a smile—a small, secret smile, "Back to normal?"

_Wait for me, Orihime._

**…**

**…**

Orihime was there first, as the last time. She placed her hands in her lap, allowing one of the maids to light the candles in the middle of the large, large table. Orihime was left alone, guards on the other side of the door, and cooks rummaging around in the kitchen. She clenched her teeth, holding in the outbursts. She felt like screaming, yelling to the high heavens.

She felt like a caged bird. A pampered, dressed-up _bird_.

Sighing, she dug her nails in her palms. She was becoming impatient, she knew that, and she wondered why whenever she entered the dining room, she thought about Ichigo the most. She bowed her head, hair up in an elegant bun, and her skin illuminating perfectly.

"Woman."

"Eeep!" Quickly, Orihime looked up, eyes larger than usual, "Eh? Oh. Ulquiorra-sama. Good evening."

"Yes," he took his seat, "It is. Let's try this again, shall we?" There was a dryness in his tone, and she didn't know if she was supposed to take it as lightly or was he throwing an insult at her. Either way, she didn't like it, and she wrinkled her nose up at him, eyes narrowing with her thick lashes.

Their food was served, a bowl of green soup. Orihime hesitated for a moment, waiting for Ulquiorra to take his spoon. He took the one in the middle and she decided to follow him. She was utterly lost when it came to table manners now—she was so used to just eating freshly cooked fish with her hands and devouring rice with her chopsticks. She stared at it in her hand, studying it. It looked weird in her thin fingers.

"Wrong spoon," Ulquiorra said, staring at her, "That's for desserts, woman."

"Eh?" Orihime glanced down at her hand and then back to him, "B-But you—"

"I was testing you," He murmured, placing down the shiny utensil, "It's still a shame that you don't know which are which."

Her cheeks tinted and then puffed out, "I-I do!"

"It does not matter to me."

She glared at her green soup, and then up at Ulquiorra to see him eating. Everything he did, it seemed, was smooth and graceful. Even the way he moved his wrist, spoke, and shrugged his shoulders. It was nothing like Ichigo's though, who was thoughtlessly lethal when he moved, lazy grace and purposeful steps. Ulquiorra and Ichigo were so different. The way they spoke, the way they walked, the way they held their swords. She hated Ulquiorra's sword—it was the sword that injured Ichigo, the sword who had ruined everything. She bit her bottom lip, she wasn't that hungry anymore.

"Ulquiorra-sama," He didn't respond, but she knew he was listening, "what's the name of your sword?"

He looked up at that, pausing his glass of wine to his mouth. Finally, he uttered, "Murcielago." She opened her mouth to ask why he named him that, but he broke in before she could, "He exterminates trash, I suppose," His eyes flicker to hers, "Such as Kurosaki."

She knew he was just trying to get to her, just to have another outburst. She balled her hands into fists in her lap. "…I see."

"Do you?"

Without looking at him, she reached out and clasped a shaking hand around her thin wine glass. She took a leisure sip and then tipped her head back, taking it all down at once. He watched expressionlessly.

"Careful. You might say or do something you will regret."

"Like say I hate you again?" She met his blank stare.

His eyes tightened a bit, but he didn't glare at her, "And why would you say that?" She didn't say anything, letting her silence answer for her. He spoke again, his voice cold and detached, "What would you have me say? _'Don't worry, I'm sure he's still alive'_? Ridiculous. I am not here to comfort you, _Princess_. If it were me, and I allowed the one I love to enter battle without gauging their opponents strength and reinforcements first, I'd be infuriated with their stupidity."

Her eyelashes lowered. She licked her lips, tasting the bittersweet wine. "You speak as if you have no heart at all."

His spoon clattered into his almost empty bowl deafeningly. When she looked up, he was suddenly looming over her. She didn't understand how he moved so quickly, or maybe the wine was already getting to her head—she wasn't a drinker, after all. Blinking rapidly, she stared into those harsh emerald eyes. He placed one hand on the back of her chair and the other on the table, caging her.

"Heart, you say? People like you are so quick to speak of such things." She started at his tone, "As though you carry your hearts in the very palms of your hands. As if you carry _his_ heart. It's _infuriating_. If I cannot see it, I do not believe in it. A heart, as you say, is _nothing_."

She opened her dry lips, whispering, "Ul-Ulquiorra-sama—"

"It seems," he cut in, standing to his full height. She let out a breathless gasp when he leaned away—she was stunned to think she was actually _frightened_ at his close proximity, "We cannot have a normal dinner without discussing something out of context. Therefore, I've decided we won't see each other until the wedding."

She swallowed—it felt like a rock going down her throat, "The wedding is in two days."

"Well," he tucked his hands in his pockets, "I guess I'll see you in two days, _prometida_."

She watched as he turned and walked out, the second time in the row. She was either the worst fiancé or she just couldn't stand it presence. Despite knowing everything about him, despite knowing he worked alongside Ichimaru, she couldn't despise him.

It was impossible.

She was miserable. Lying her head on the table, she allowed herself to swept in the memories of warmth, orange hair, and lazy grin.

**…**

**…**

A plump-looking woman was helped out of her carriage. Her husband, or that was what he seemed to be, rounded around, petted their horses, and left the carriage to walk right into the castle. There were only nine carriages, all with horses and guards around them. But, Rukia, was more focused on something else.

"It's so big~" Rukia gazed up at the castle in shock, eyes wider than usual. Renji rolled his eyes from beside her, hands clenched by his sides. "It's amazing. I've never seen the Karakura Castle."

"It's not _that_ amazin'," Grimmjow groused, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the guards. The group was ways away, but just looking at the guards who had taken him down was enough to make his fingers itch. Sado was silently taking in everything from beside him, while Shinji lazily picked his nose, leaning against one of the cherry blossom trees in the Palace's garden.

"Brings back memories…" The blonde sighed to himself.

"Oh, great. You're guys are already here," Yumichika and Ikkaku emerged from the narrow trees, scaling the Palace's gates with ease. Dressed in all black, they stood in front of the group, appearing extremely pleased with themselves, "Kenpachi's fired up. Just give the signal and—"

"AAAARRRGHHHHH!"

The group jumped, startled. Whirling around, they were shocked to see the giant man race into the Palace's entrance, seemingly coming out of nowhere. The four guards stationed there watched with obvious trepidation and fear as the man charged towards them. There was a brutal slash of Kenpachi's sword, maniacal laughter, and finally, the men fell, blood covering the grounds. Kenpachi, leering, peeled off his mask and wiped sweat off his brow.

"OOOOOIIIII!" He yelled to them, waving a hand. Rukia and Renji sweat-dropped, "You guys can come out now! I killed all of the—"

Three Royal guards emerged from the castle doors, hollering and putting up a fuss. Before Kenpachi could turn towards them, a black shadow shot across the open area and the sword decapitated one before he could even unsheathe his sword. The rest were taken care of rather quickly, thanks to Kenpachi and he turned to grin at his partner.

"Kurosaki," His grin widened, placing his sword on his shoulder lazily, "The fuck are you wearing?"

Ichigo tugged on his tie, his eyebrows furrowing. "It's supposed to make me blend in. We walked through the entire village, after all, fucker. And watch what you're doin'. You could've gotten killed." He was dressed in a night-black cheap suit, that somehow looked very clean and cut on him.

"Good thing I wasn't," Kenpachi said, "Now we can fight." He aimed his sword at Ichigo's shoulder, "C'mon. Just once."

Batting away his blade nonchalantly, the orange-haired snorted, "Yeah, right. I already kicked your sorry ass." He looked towards the tree line, where his comrades were eyeing the two in disbelief, "What're you dumbasses waitin' for?! Come on!"

Rukia was the first to jog out, stepping carefully over dead bodies. Renji followed after her with a sigh, less enthusiastically, Grimmjow looked pissed as he stalked over and Shinji lazily walked over to the group, kicking limbs and heads out of his way. Ikkaku and Yumichika nodded at Kenpachi when they made it over, shaking their heads at the corpses. Sado was the last to reach them, seeming to take everything in with stride.

"We've only got a couple of minutes," Renji put in with a sigh. "They'll start to wonder why they've haven't heard anything from the outside."

Ichigo grinned, feral and tousled and deadly, "Well, I guess we better hurry then."

**…**

**…**

Her dress was beautiful. It really was.

Long in the back, and short in the front. Her legs were exposed, but covered by sleek pantyhose. The heels were not comfortable in the least as Hinamori slipped them on her feet and gave a small smile of encouragement.

Orihime tried to smile back, tried to look like she was ready, but she knew she looked the complete opposite. She looked into the mirror, watching as the servants behind her began to brush out her hair, rub at her shoulders, and tied her corset.

The door opened and Aoi stepped in, "The Empress said that only ten royal families are here. They're about to close the gates, I suppose."

Orihime swallowed. _Close the gates?_

Urgently, she glanced out the large window to her right. The day was sunny, bright, and the perfect day for a wedding. As the maids finally finished stitching up her tail, Momo looked up and gave her a bright smile.

"It's time, Your Highness."

_Heart_, she whispered to herself, _be still._

**…**

**…**

The music was loud. It was overwhelming as she waited for the grand doors to open. When they did, she was left feeling vulnerable. She'd never seen so many people in the room. Maybe a few of them were from Ulquiorra's Kingdom and maybe some royal families, as they had said. Either way, too many eyes were on her, they were watching as she breathed, as she blinked, as she clutched the bouquet to her chest.

The long, carpet was a blood-red, trailing between the rows of benches in a straight line. The rose petals were just an extra touch, probably from her mother, who was sitting on her throne, above the ceremony with a small smile on the painted lips.

With her heart thudding in her ears, she began to walk down the aisle, eyes on her feet. She could feel the eyes staring at her, rather through her. She felt bare, exposed in the most defenseless way. When she looked up, she met the eyes of Ulquiorra, and he was staring at her. The music slowed and grew a bit more deeper, she found herself standing in front of him and the priest, watching as he pulled open his book with palpable intent.

Ulquiorra stood in front of her now, his eyes boring into hers, his mouth set in a firm line. She didn't think her wedding would ever be like this—standing in front of man she didn't love, exposed to complete strangers, and without Onii-chan. She swallowed back the lump in her throat, the priest's words echoing in and out of her ears until he sounded like her heart, which sounded like it would burst from her chest. It took her a long second to realize the priest's skipped completely over the vows and "I do's".

Orihime's mother rolled her eyes from atop her throne when she heard, "…does anyone have a say that these two should not be wed?"

Orihime felt like she would faint as she listened cold silence. And then she squeezed her eyes shut, wishing and wanting and praying for someone, anyone to give her mercy.

Ulquiorra's stare was piercing through her. It looked as though he was asking her a question. Her lips shook.

"You may now kiss the—"

**...**

**...**

_"I fuckin' object,"_ drawled a rather familiar voice.

**...**

**...**

Her wet eyes snapped open. She spun around before anyone could say anything, and her bouquet dropped to the ground. She wasn't prepared for what she saw.

The chocolate brown eyes, the eyes she had fallen in love with, met hers. He grinned, and she felt her tears overflow and trickle down her cheeks, "As if I would let Kitten get married."

"Ichi—" She felt the breath leave her, "Ichigo." And then, she was beaming, smiling so big she thought her face would break in half, "_Ichigo_!"

The Empress shot out of her seat, eyes fiery with such emotion, she looked as though she would tear her entire Kingdom down.

"Guards! Guards! _Yakuza_! Yakuza in my Palace!" She shrieked, "Kill them! Kill _Kurosaki Ichigo_!"

Orihime felt her legs move, run straight towards where she belonged.

_Ichigo, Ichigo, Ichigo!_

But, before she could, a cold hand clamped around her bare arm and yanked her back. Ulquiorra. For a moment, she saw Ichigo's eyes narrow and flash darkly, before the Royal Guards broke through into the room.

Screams. Swords. And curses.

And just like that, all hell broke loose.

**…**

**..**

**Yay! Finished~ Told you guys Ichigo would come in time. EEEEE! The feels! Anyways, I hope you guys liked this chapter. I know I did. Just a bit, Ulquihime, and I'm hoping to do more when she sees Ulquiorra again, nothing physical, just something to show he's changed. **

**Oh, and sorry about the wedding. I was gonna look up how traditional Japanese weddings go, especially around that time. And since I'm too lazy, and everyone knows how a traditional wedding goes, I decided to do this. So, sorry. If you guys know, PLEASE let me know and I'll edit the chapter, if you like. **

**Next chapter: Ichihime and ACTION! Can't live without it! Oh, and make sure you check out my profile. I've always imagined Ulquiorra's and Orihime's wedding clothes to look like that. It's made by Rusky Boz, though, so the art is NOT mine! It's really preeettty though, she's such a good artist.**

**And thank you guys sooooooooo much! We've reached the 400's! I was so happy and excited, I literally flailed and fell off my bed. Hehe~ So thank you, really. **

**Looove you guys~ don't forget to leave me a review! They make me extra, extra happy!**

**-Star**


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